Four Weeks
by TWD withdrawl
Summary: Prequel to my oneshot Four Days. Maggie sets Glen on a small mission to find out the exact relationship between Beth and Daryl. Action, Humour, and more information shared from my previous story. It all leads up to Glen and the group witnessing a very tender moment. Multi-Chapter story. Should read four Days first.
1. Safe and Sound

**A/N: I strongly suggest reading my first fic FOUR DAYS before starting this story. Even though this story happens before that one, my prequel is following the same timeline as that story. References will be made, and certain scenes will not have the same effect if you have not read it. Anyways, this is the second part of what I hope will be a four-part series. It follows a timeline that is different from the show. This will be my first attempt at a multi chapter story. Assume everything that happened up to the Governor attacking happened the same way. Everything after happened differently. Enjoy!**

**Small disclaimer:** **I do not own anything Walking Dead, The Walking Dead owns me.**

Four Weeks

Glen's POV

I wipe my brow with the sleeve of my shirt. The sun is just beginning to push its way through the darkness. Dawn is on its way. Soon my shift will be over and I can sleep. I sigh from exhaustion as I sit cross-legged on the floor of the steeple. I place the riffle through the iron bars that surround the circular bell tower, and look out over the fields that the small country church sits on.

I smile as I see Beth and Daryl exit out the main doors of the building. They only move a short distance away before they square off in yet another private sparing competition. To say the match is unevenly set would be an understatement. That is until the battle begins. Daryl is tall, all brawn and muscle. Beth is small in stature, thin, and very, very quick.

Daryl begins with a few light jabs to Beth's face that she easily blocks or taps away. She backs off a bit and glides to the side as Daryl moves in and tries to land a roundhouse kick to her outer thigh, but Beth sees it coming a mile away. She throws up her knee and blocks the kick with her shin. She knows in where her strength lies, and also her weakness. She stays in close, never allowing Daryl the full use of his long reach. Beth lands a couple of body shots to his ribs, always making sure her guards are up. Never does she make a move or throw a punch without first making sure to have an arm up to protect her face and head. Daryl taught her that.

Long gone is the shy quiet teenager from the farm. Beth is fast becoming a force, a warrior meant to live in this world. She has already proven she can survive in it.

The training sessions started about a week ago. It is always at dawn, before the sun can add to the blistering heat that is the end of a Georgia summer. Or maybe it is to escape the wrath of Bob, who strongly believes Beth needs another four weeks until she is fit for travel. He would not be happy to find out how she has chosen to utilize her early mornings.

It's hard to believe that only four short weeks ago Beth was lost to us. Only Eight weeks since Daryl made the singular decision to leave our group and follow what he said was "the first solid lead" since her disappearance over three months prior.

No one was happy with the decision to split up, except for maybe Maggie. She had confided in me late one night that she just needed closure. She needed to know one way or the other. It was because of Daryl's stubborn determination that Maggie got her answer, we all did. Beth was very much alive.

I don't like to think on the shattered and crumpled state Beth arrived back to us in. I still shutter when I think on it. The terrified look on Daryl's face when he carried her lifeless form back to our family. The way Maggie would not leave her sister's side, not even for a moment as Bob tried his best to put her back together. The mere sight of her was best left to horror flicks such as "Hostel" or "Texas Chainsaw Massacre."

In the beginning it was a knife wound that sliced her back that caused the most danger. An infection had begun to fester and Bob said without proper medication it would most likely go into her bloodstream. Rick, Daryl, and I left that very night to find any antibiotic that we could. Go figure we would find what we needed in a dilapidated trailer park in "Bowman," population eight hundred and forty. Thank God we did. It saved her life. I shake the thought away.

I prefer to look on her now. The bruises that marred her features are all but gone. A pink circular scar, rough and raised, the only reminder of the bullet wound that ripped through her upper thigh. Man she has healed fast.

Neither Beth or Daryl have spoken much on what occurred at the hospital where Beth was being held. Daryl bluntly said "Beth will speak on it only when she is ready and if she didn't want to talk on it, it sure as hell wasn't his place to say." The few times Maggie had attempted a conversation with her younger sister, Beth would just shudder and shake, a dull contempt brewing in the sky blue orbs that use to hold so much hope.

"Glen," I am pulled out of my recollections by the melodic tone of my wife's voice. "Hey Babe."

"Hey Maggs. Come to relieve me" (Double meaning is intended). I quirk a brow and await her response. Maggie lowers her body to the ground and slips her legs through the iron bars, allowing them to dangle freely in the air. She looks me up and down, smiles, then replies. "Possibly." God she's beautiful.

Maggie nods over to where Beth and Daryl are fighting in the distance. "How long have they been at it this time?"

"About and hour."

"Who's winning?"

"Hard to tell at the moment." Just then Daryl manages to get Beth in a headlock and she looks to be struggling a bit.

"Has she said anything to you yet? About...you know?"

With a shake of her head Maggie replies. "Not a word. It's like she's content to just ignore the last three months. When I try to talk to her about it she just frowns and curls in on herself. It can't be healthy to bottle it all up like that."

I chuckle a little as I follow Maggie's gaze back, once again focused on the staged battle happening on the lawn below. Maggie's smile is hypnotic and I can't help but smile at her in response. She looks so proud of Beth. "It almost looks like dancing. Look at her go...Owch!"

We both cringe as we watch Daryl connect a solid, swift kick to the ribs. Beth stumbles back a bit. She is doubled over slightly. Maggie begins to stand and I use my arm to hold her firmly to the spot. Beth straightens her posture and moves her hands to her hips. She definitely looks annoyed. Daryl cautiously moves forward as he bends to gently check and make sure she's ok.

If I didn't know better I would have thought I saw a small amount of pink creep up his jaw line and reach his ears. I shake off the thought. I must be hallucinating from the heat, or lack of sleep. I glance at Maggie and am received by a confused expression lining her features. She shakes her head a little, crinkling her nose in the process. Maybe Maggie sees it too.

We briefly pause to watch as the sun floats up over the horizon.

"She's a lot like you, ya know."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, remember after the Governor. You just shut down for a while. We all wanted you to talk about it. We wanted to take the hurt away, but we couldn't, only you could do that." Maggie's contemplative look encourages me on. "Do you remember what you said to me?" Her eyebrows furrow, causing a crease to form at the arch of her perfect nose. Her smile is small, not happy, just kind of out of appreciation. As she speaks her eyes glisten. A part of her will always carry that pain.

"I said that I just wanted you to see me. I just needed you to see me."

"Beth is strong Maggie. Just look at her. She will find her way."

Maggie leans her head against my shoulder as I wrap my arm around hers. She tilts her face up and I can't help the smile that forms on mine. "When did you get so smart?," she teases. I cup her cheek in my other palm and gently wipe away a tear with the pad of my thumb. I bend my head down, and with the slightest pressure, press my lips to hers. Instantly our lips move in unison. Nothing is forced. Nothing is awkward. I was born for these lips alone.

Maggie begins to fumble with the top buttons of my shirt as my hands skim under the hem of hers. I leave her soft lips to trail small hot kisses down the side of her neck. I gently push the material of her shirt to the side as I follow the path of her collarbone to...

The large wooden door below creaks open and Rick steps out onto the veranda that wraps the entire eastern exterior of the church. He motions to Beth and Daryl and then to Maggie and myself up in the steeple. "I hope I'm not disturbing anything."

I want to wipe the smirk off his face. Living with ten other people means you take any alone time you can get, and you make that time count! "What's up?"

"Bob says Beth will be ready for travel in a few weeks so Abraham wants to hold a meeting. He wants to sort out the particulars, you know. Quite frankly I wouldn't mind hearing where the group stands on D.C. Michonne says she will take watch."

I stand up and sling the strap of the riffle over my shoulder, then offer a hand to Maggie, pulling her to a standing position. We climb down the stairs that lead out of the bell tower. As we reach the grass I see Beth and Daryl walking towards us. I notice Daryl guiding Beth into the church. His hand is gently pressing against the small of her back. Curious.

I go to follow the others when I am pulled back off the first step and met with a swift elbow to the gut.

"Ow! What was that for?"

Maggie leans closer, practically whispering although I have no idea why. "Is it just me or is Daryl being very...unDaryl like with my baby sister.?"

"Seriously!" I can't help sounding slightly annoyed. "Now is not the time!"

"Come on Glen, you must have noticed. He's always near her..." I'm ashamed to say I kind of want to see where she's going with this. "...He's always finding excuses to touch her." Her eyebrows shoot up and I can tell she is desperately trying not to roll her eyes. "Glen!" I am thrown slightly off-balance as her hands lightly push on my chest in frustration. Her voice is definitely no longer a whisper. "You have to have just seen that!"

"We can talk about it after the meeting."

Maggie takes a step back. "Fine."

Uh oh. Her brilliant smile takes over her entire face. I know that smile. It tells me that I am about to be pulled into some scheme that I don't want to be a part of. She's moving closer now and my voice fails. She is breathtaking. She places her hands on both sides of my hips and slowly, ever so painfully so, begins to glide them up my abdomen. I let out a small "gulp." Her arms continue to rise as her hands skim feather light touches across my sides until they snake around my neck and we are face to face. I am inches from those soft, moist, perfect lips. Yep, I'm toast! I can hear Daryl's less than kind words ring through my head at this juncture. Pussywipped, that's what he called it. Damn it if he's not one hundred percent right! I will do anything for this woman, even when I know I am being manipulated beyond belief.

Maggie places a soft kiss at the base of my throat. My head is fuzzy when she speaks. This is so not fair. "Glen, I was just wondering..." Her tongue lazily trails thin wet heat up to the lobe of my ear. She gently sucks. "If you could just talk to him is all..." along my jaw, "Find out if he has feelings for her..." stopping when she reaches the corner of my mouth. "Just need to know if he..." a pause, "...has intentions." She bats her eyelashes a few times. Oh but for the power she wields. If there is one thing to know about the Greene girls it is this, they always, always get their way.

I know I have been bewitched. Maggie has me in her clutches now, and I am powerless against her charms.

Please let me know what you think, good or bad. It helps to know.


	2. Information

**A/N** **Thanks to those that favourited or followed this story. I am new to this so any imput is good! Enjoy**

"You step outside, you risk your life. You take a drink of water, you risk your life. nowadays' you breath, and you risk your life. Every moment now, you don't have a choice. The only thing you choose, is what you're risking it for."

Hershel Greene

Maggie and I step into the church. We quietly make our way to the front pew, and I notice that Tara, Carl, Sasha, and Bob are already seated in the row adjacent to us. Maggie and I slip into the pew beside Beth.

There are maps spread flat on a wooden desk. The same desk Rick and I dragged in from the pastor's office the previous day. Rick looked to be studying the map of Georgia, then referring back to a map of the entire United States. He appeared to be plotting a course.

Abraham and Rosita were standing a little ways back near the far end of the table. The mysterious Eugene, standing between and ever so slightly behind the two.

The tension in the atmosphere combined with the daggers Daryl's eyes are shooting at Abraham, leads me to believe we have just missed something rather important. Whatever had been said moments before we entered the building had Daryl on edge. You could practically see the steam that threatened to shoot forth from his ears. Seems to me this meeting has already invoked a heated discussion between the solider and our very own resident redneck.

Rick brings his eyes up, searching the faces of the two men standing before him.

Daryl's gaze turns to Rick, seeking clarification. "So you really just s'pect us to let Sargent Slaughter here and his girl lead us on some wild goose chase? Want us to follow some mullet halfway across the country and we don't get to know what he knows." Daryl waves his arm in the air, gesturing the rest of us seated in the front row. "How we know he ain't just sayin' he has a cure so we don't leave his ass? Can't even hold a gun proper. Liable to shoot one of our own before he ever manages a walker. God damn! I mean, what does he contribute? Sure as hell don't hunt, or help on runs."

I am beginning to think that this has less to do with D.C. and more to do with, well to be honest I'm not sure what. Before the thought can begin to take root, and as if she is reading my mind Maggie leans into my ear and whispers. "Yesterday Eugene had been talking Beth up about what fibers were best used in sleeping bags. apparently he spent a substantial amount of that time staring at Beth's ass while she prepared her sleeping spot."

"Apparently?"

"It was Sasha that saw it. Daryl did too."

"Really!"

"Yah, she said she watched as Daryl approached the two. Told Eugene he needed to lift his eyes off the ground or he was liable to fall right into the gaping jaws of a walker. He said the best thing to do is keep away from distractions. Then he gestured to Rosita and Abraham and told Eugene he needed to stay with Mom and Dad and let the grownups handle things."

"He didn't," I whispered back. I cannot believe I am getting sucked into this.

Maggie only nodded.

When I remember just who is on the other side of me I turn round to see Beth still focused on the conversation taking place in front of us. She seems completely oblivious to what Maggie and I had been saying. I too, refocus my attention back to the meeting going on in the sanctuary.

Daryl is practically vibrating now. "...Guy's about as useful as a pogo stick in quicksand!"

Abraham steps forward and clears his throat. "I assure you that D.C. was very interested in this man's ideas." He gives Eugene a solid, but friendly smack on the back causing the scientist to let out a puff of air. "I am more than willing to vouch for him."

Rick takes a step between the men. Daryl takes a step closer to Eugene, all but growling out, "Well if you want my help, my protection, I say spill it."

Eugene mumbles something about imbreds under his breath. He makes a move to straighten his posture. He can not quite look Daryl in the eye. "How many times do I have to tell y'all. It's classified!" Eugene continues to stand his ground, a stoic resolve finding home on his features.

Daryl steps closer still. His eyes are no more than slits now. Abraham puffs out his chest and Rick readies himself to pull Daryl back hard if need be.

Beth tugs my arm free from my side and loops her own through. The look of concern etched on her face matches that of the entire group.

The redneck and the scientist stand toe to toe. Daryl's face tilts ever so slightly to the side. He speaks slow and with precision. "You...no...what...Mullet?" He raises his index finger and pokes Eugene square in the chest for emphases. His voice is low and deep. "Fuck classified. In case you haven't noticed, the world ended."

Daryl backs off abruptly after that. He turns on his heel until he reaches our pew and takes a seat, sliding in close to Beth. His legs cross instantly, ankle to knee. He wears bravado and confidence like a shield. Beth let's go of my arm and places an open palm on Daryl's shoulder. The effect it has is not lost on the rest of us. Sudden calm begins to wash over the lines in his face. The tense muscles in his shoulders loosen and a small smile touches the corners of his mouth. His voice goes quiet. "Pheff, look Rick it's your call man. I'm just pointing out what I see."

Rick turn his focus my way. "Glen, do you have anything you want to add?"

I take pause a moment to choose the proper words that best convey how I feel. "Well, listen Rick, I get that we are not going to be able to stay in this location much longer. There is nothing around here but small rural townships and we've all but picked them clean. I think we all know that this place isn't ever going to be a home. It's not safe, what with the walkers roaming free just beyond the gates. I don't know if we will ever find somewhere safe enough, but I can say for certain that I do not relish another winter on the road. Especially not when the direction we'd be heading is north.

Regardless of the decision that the group makes, prep work needs to be starting now. We have one car and with not enough room for everyone. That means we use the remaining fuel in the tank and the jerry cans to collect what we need. Summers going to end. Our people will need warmer clothes, jackets, ect. We will need food."

"And medicine," Bob cuts in.

"Yes, and a bunch of other stuff we haven't even thought of yet." If we do decide on D.C. though, I want to know why I'm risking the safety of my family." My head turns toward Maggie seeking support and I am rewarded when I see she is smiling proudly. Then I look directly at Eugene before adding, "I want to know exactly what this cure is."

Rick nods approval. "It's settled then. There will be no more talk on D.C. unless and until all information is shared."

While Rick is speaking I notice that Abraham, Rosita, and Eugene are in a back corner of the sanctuary. They are huddled close together, talking in whispers and the occasional grunt. Eugene looks nervous.

Abraham steps back and places an arm on Eugene's shoulder as the two approach the rest of us. Rosita makes her way over and sits beside Maggie. We shuffle down a bit to provide room on the bench.

Abraham clears his throat, as if asking permission to speak. I wait in anticipation. "Ok guys, we've talked it over. We will tell you what you want to know."

The group nods assent and Abraham starts his story. "Rosita and I were part of a larger group just outside of Houston, mostly military types. The camp got over run with geeks, or walkers as you call them. They came out of nowhere, hundreds of them against forty men."

"Ahem."

"Sorry, and women."

"Thanks."

"Geeks just kept coming. When it was done, myself and Rosita were left relatively unscathed. The handful that remained alive after the herd had passed by were either bit or scratched. They were good people. The two of us waited with them. We put them down before they turned."

Abraham had captured my attention entirely.

"Hit the road after that. We stayed in constant contact with D.C. on the portable C.B. radio. Military channels had not changed codes since the shit first hit the fan. It was during this time that we came across Mr. Porter. It seems Eugene here had gotten himself in a bit of a situation."

Abraham turns to the man at his side and Eugene begins to talk. "I hadn't been on my own long. My family was wiped out by this thing. I came across a small river and proceeded to pull out my test tubes and began taking samples of the water.

"Why?" Beth asks, uttering her first words since the meeting began.

"It may be the end of the world but eccolii is still a nasty business little lady."

"Oh."

"Pheff," Daryl lets out a sound, part cough, part snort. Eugene eyeballs him, Obviously annoyed.

"Anyway, before I could finish taking my samples a walker gets me from behind."

"What do you mean by GETS YOU?" Questions Sasha.

"I'm getting to it." Sasha sits back and patiently awaits the rest of the tale.

"I stumbled into the river but somehow managed to turn quick enough to push the decomposing corpse away from my person. I ran a short distance. Two more of the undead had picked up my trail. They must have heard the splashes. Thinking I could lose them I jumped into and old irrigation trench and made my way along it until I came to a small tunnel that was crumbling from the decay and neglect. So I wedged myself in behind some concrete that the mortar had failed to hold in place and prayed that the roof would not fall in on me. That's when Ab and Rosita showed up. They fired the shots that ended them.

Rosita figits in her seat. She doesn't say a word, only casts a glare at Abraham and rolls her eyes.

Bob the only person in our group with any true medical knowledge finds his voice. "Can we get to the part about the cure please?"

Rosita stands up. "I'll take it from here. We found an old farmhouse to spend the night. Ab and I cleared it pretty quick and we settled in. Eugene's hoodie was soaked through and through. As he removed the sopping material off his head I saw it. The bite. Abraham and I discussed the situation at length with Eugene, but in the end we decided to stay. We agreed to sit back and wait for the inevitable to happen. We waited for Eugene to turn."

As Rosita tells of how the three first met Eugene lifts his shirt up over his head for the group to see. Rick approaches the scientist for a closer look. The wound is long healed over, but the indents in the skin around where a piece of flesh is still even after all this time is noticeably missing is unmistakable. A divit in the shape of a half-moon is left in its place. The scar remains quite red. textured bumps and groves run through it, evidence of a wound that could not properly be sutured and so left to heal on its own.

"We have all witnessed first hand the speed at which the change can occur. Never seen it take longer than two days. Abraham and I watched in shifts for over a week, two weeks, a month. Nothing happened. Eugene never got the fever." Rosita's soft voice and the information she shares, starts to sink in. "Eugene did not come up with a cure. Eugene is the cure. It's in his blood."

There are looks of and shock and gasps of surprise as we take in this knowledge. I look over to see Daryl's jaw gaping open and he is speechless. Rick is the first to find his voice. "How do you know that even if he is immune to a bite that his blood can save the world? Also, how do you know D.C. will be able to take his blood and create a cure?" He is looking at Abraham for an answer.

Abraham obliges. "Stayed in full contact with them over the weeks after Porter got bit. That is until we lost frequency. Porter's knowledge combined with the city's own medical researchers have come up with a pretty precise plan. Eugene will explain the rest."

I hear another groan of complaint from Daryl, however he stays relatively quiet as Eugene begins.

The next hour or so is spent immersed in scientific speak and medical terminology revolving around virus' and infectious disease. Bob mentions how a person can be an asymptomatic carrier but still pass a disease to others. He uses typhoid Mary as an example of this line of thought. She spread typhoid to fifty-three people, never getting sick herself. He argues that Eugene could be one of these carriers and not the salvation he thinks himself to be. Eugene counters this with talk on genetic's, pathogens, chromosomes, and how basic biology enables life to continue. He too, uses examples from the past. He speaks of cholera which ran like wild-fire through the west in the late eighteen hundreds. He also speaks of the bubonic plague that wiped out a third of Europe, yet still we survived.

In the end though, it is Beth's simple statements that begins to sway the group. "I think we should go."

"You do?" The entire group speaks in unison.

"Yah, I do. I've never seen someone get bit and survive, have you?" Her blue eyes search the room almost daring a response. Beth seems to take the lack of argument on the part of the group as a sign for her to continue her line of thought. "It will give us something to hope for. It will give us a reason to go on. It may turn out Eugene isn't the cure. It may however, turn out that he is. It wouldn't kill us to have a little faith. Daddy always said, we all have jobs to do. Why can't getting Eugene to Washington be ours?"

As Beth speaks I begin to think about Hershel. I think back to the prison and how Hershel Greene walked into a cell block full of the sick and dying. He was the type of man willing to risk his own life for others, armoured only with a simple concept of hope. The type of man who I want to be.

"Glen, you said yourself that we can't stay here. Why not D.C.?"

"She's right."

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	3. Home sweet home

**A/N: I would like to thank all those who fav/followed this little tale of mine. Also a huge thank you to "**_**idon'tlikepeople**_**" for giving me my very first review! I was beginning to feel lonely, not having any LOL. It really made my day:) As always Enjoy!**

The days that followed leave me in a blur. So much is happening all at once. Like Beth said, we all have jobs to do. Lists are being prepared and collected by Beth herself. She even enlisted the help of Maggie, Sasha, and Tara. Together they are determined to make sure nothing is missed or forgotten.

Rick, Daryl, and myself are in charge of plotting the route to D.C. aswell as the various towns in the area not yet explored. Supplies are running low and most definitely needed if we are going to make the long trek to Washington on foot.

The trek to Washington.; This is in and of itself proving to be a difficult undertaking. Certain criteria are essential. The route we ultimately choose needs to be a ways off the road as to not draw unwanted attention. Water needs to be available for the entire group. This means travelling close to a tributary of some kind, be it a river, stream or creek for as long as possible.

There is also the small matter of food. Even though there are no shortage of able bodies to carry it, the group would do well to lessen our weight by taking advantage of the hunter in our midst. Daryl is an asset. No doubt about it. His abilities to provide sustenance lessens the stress the world brings upon us in no small way.

This leads me to one other job that is vital to our endeavour being a success. It is one that Abraham and Rosita seemed more than willing to take on; Weapons making. The two went about scouring the property, collecting every hard, sharp object they could find. They work well together, anticipating each other perfectly. Abraham is both creative and inventive. They have already attached bayonets to most of the rifles. They used some spare pipe along with a blowtorch they found in the basement of the church. In one afternoon the pair managed to craft the pipes into newly sharpened weapons designed specifically for walker killing. Rosita and Abraham then attached these to the guns with assorted twine, rope, leather belts, and really, anything else they could find.

It is half way through the first week of planning and I am exhausted. As I step out of the church I am greeted by a warm gentle breeze that blows through my hair. It was stuffy and stifling inside that building and the cool air feels glorious on my skin. I had begun to think that I would pass out if I didn't get out of there. I take a deep breath in, and exhale slowly. It was Another full hour with Rick, mapping out alternate routes that we can take if we run into trouble on the road. He is determined to do this the right way. "Don't want a repeat like after the farm. Ran in circles for months before we came across the prison," he said. Now that I think about it, the man did offer up a good point. Herd infestation can cause us to backtrack. It is always smart to have and alternative path planned out. Deciding on the road leaves to many variables that can slow us down.

As I'm rounding the corner of the building I see both Beth and Daryl sitting on a log near a small campfire. Daryl has Beth's knife in his hand. He looks to be whittling a thin branch of wood. Sticks of similar size and shape are scattered about at their feet. The knife slips from the wood and the archer's voice resonates loudly. "Jesus Christ!" He brings his hand to his lips and I can see the scowl that is now forming on Beth's face. I learned long ago never to take the Lord's name in vain in front of a Greene girl. You will never hear the end of it.

As I make my way around the church, not caring to disturb them, Beth turns my way. She gives a cheerful smile and waves her arm in the air motioning for me to come over.

"Hey, what's up?" I ask.

I turn to look at Daryl. His finger is bleeding quite a bit as he rips a small piece of fabric from the already frayed edge of his flannel shirt. He ties and knots it around his finger, before grunting out a reply. "Korea."

Beth playfully bumps his shoulder and I see a smirk lift the at corners of his mouth.

"Daryl's showing me how to make bolts."

I turn my attention back to the hunter. "Really? Do you think it will work?"

"You know what they say, Cain't never could."

I take pause a moment, puzzled by the response I have just received. I swear that I will never fully adjust to Daryl's particular use, or rather abuse of the english language. I search his face with what I am sure is confusion on mine and then turn to Beth for the answer. She shines her bright smile up at me, giving into a silent chuckle and just shakes her head.

"I'm sorry, what?"

Daryl sighs before restating his response. "You will never do it if you don't try."

"Oh...of coarse."

The gruff man carries on with his task while he states his thoughts. "Should work though. Might not fly as true but it's better than nothin'. I'm down to my last five bolts. Hoping to find s'more on the run tomorrow, but if I don't than I sure as hell ain't going out there with nothing but my bare hands and a knife."

The tone in Daryl's voice softens a little and the atmosphere around them changes. He leans into Beth ever so slightly as he says,"Got people to protect." The tension in the air is electric. His head tilts toward hers and it appears that he is fighting the urge to look at her. Like always, his long scruffy hair is falling in front of one eye and for whatever reason he seems intent on suddenly studying the ground. If this wasn't Daryl Dixon that I was referring to, I would say that he almost looked shy. The wind whips up, blowing curly locks away from Beth's face to reveal a small amount of pink making its way on to her cheeks and adding some much-needed colour to her pale skin. The entire encounter lasts but a moment. It's so subtle that had I not been standing directly in front of them I would have missed it for sure. Beth's eyes glint and come to life, just like they use to do before...It is nice to see. Daryl then clears his throat, and just like that the spell is broken. He begins shifting awkwardly away from her like he has just realized the girl may have cooties or something, but then again, not so much as to raise suspicion.

I think on everything Maggie has said. I think on the little touches and small gestures Daryl makes for Beth. Oh my God, Maggie is right! At least partly right. Honestly, I wonder if these two realize the energy flowing between them. Then again, how could they not. I have to talk to Maggie.

"I have to find Maggie. have you guys seen her?"

Beth turns and motions to the far end of the church. "Yah, she's at the rectory. You know, the cabin over there. It's where the pastor lived."

"What's she doing there?"

"Oh, well Maggie and I kind of decided it would be better if the group moved in there until we leave. We spent some time walking the property when we were out collecting veggies."

"Wait, we have veggies?" I can't help the excitement in my voice at the prospect of fresh food.

Beth's smile is so wide now, like she just can't hold it in any longer. "It was supposed to be a surprise. Tara and Rosita stumbled upon a small garden the pastor must have kept. I mean it's overgrown for sure but it still has a few things growing."

"Like what?" Daryl's voice sounds about as eager as mine.

"Some lettuce, radishes, a few tomatoes, oh, and some potatoes too. Maggie's going to make a stew for dinner."

My stomach lets out a loud growl at the mere thought of fresh anything! "That's awesome! Wait, can Maggie cook?"

Beth laughs out loud in response. "I'll help her." She stands up and grabs my arm to lead me over. She swings her head,"You coming?" We both turn to look at Daryl.

"Yah." Daryl throws the Stryker over his left shoulder and collects the bolts before making his way over to stand on the other side of Beth, shuffling his feet a little in the process. "Rick, Glen, and I should go in first and make sure the house is properly secured."

Beth looks up at him. "No need. Maggie and I already did. She's up there now with Tara and Sasha cleaning up the place."

Daryl stops walking abruptly and gently pulls Beth to the side. His tone is quiet when he speaks, but his eyes have become dark and serious. In a low gravelly tone he utters his thoughts. "You cleared it by yourselves? What if there had been walkers in there Beth? You could have been hurt. S'not safe."

Beth's smile softens a little. Her sky blue orbs are open and honest, hiding nothing as she tilts her head to look Daryl straight in the eye. She shifts her weight to step closer to the man in front of her. I suddenly feel like an intruder. Daryl takes a step back and scratches the back of his neck. My presence here is obviously not forgotten. His eyes dart everywhere but at Beth or myself and his discomfort is clear. He looks away and to the ground. Beth doesn't seem bothered though. Her words are thoughtful. "Daryl, I'm not going anywhere; Not ever again. Maggie and I are more than capable. We just thought it would be a nice surprise for everyone. We all have worked so hard and we just wanted some nice memories somewhere nice, you know. Even if it is only for a couple of weeks."

"Does Rick know?"

Beth rolls her eyes at him. "Duh! Of course he knows. He says he can't wait to sleep on anything that isn't wood or ground."

We all chuckle at that. Daryl's mood seems to be lifting some as we once again make our way towards the cabin. At first glance it appears small. I wonder how the girls expect everyone to fit comfortably. There is a quaint little cobblestone path leading up to the front door. Weeds and grass are poking up through the cracks in the stone. The cottage also has a waist-high wall of brick, separated only at the front where a black metal gate takes its place. It matches perfectly with the style of wall and gate that surrounds the church.

As we reach the door Maggie comes barreling out. A small squeal escapes her mouth as she wraps her arms around my neck and plants a kiss square on my lips. She turns to Beth. "You told them."

"Yep, kind of slipped out. Sorry."

"No worries." Maggie tugs at my arm and pulls me inside. I am surprised to see Rick, Carl, and the rest already inside looking around. The place is not nearly as cramped as it appeared to be from the outside. There are three large bedrooms near the back of the cottage, a sofa bed in the living area, as well as a smaller love seat, brown leather recliner chair and fireplace.

Daryl instantly claims the leather chair as his own. He plops down in it and a cloud of dust puffs up into the air causing him to sneeze. Gently he places the crossbow on the floor, leaning it against the leather, only a hairs breath from where he rests his hand.

With Daryl distracted by the new digs, Eugene approaches Beth. She is friendly as always, however there is a noticable space she keeps creating between them. I take it as my sign to save he from the incessant goings on of a man who knows way to much about all things that have to do with video games, mathematics, fibers, tooth decay, infectious disease, Dungeons And Dragons (whatever that is), country music, toothpaste, hygienic issues (both male and female) and just about any other gross topic, under the sun; Yet the man knew absolutely nothing about basic survival. I smile inwardly as I think just how ironic that is. This is the man whose blood can save the world, if only he can survive the world long enough to get his blood to D.C.

Beth mouths a silent thank you when I interrupt a conversation that seems now to be centering around the practical uses of maggots (I don't even want to know). Taking her by the arm I lead the way as we continue the tour together. We enter the kitchen and Boy, Beth wasn't lying when she said we had veggies. Maggie and Sasha grab Beth and they squeal once more. Seems Beth had forgotten to mention a few of the garden ingredients. Along with the picture she had created in my mind, there are also carrots, cucumber, leak, and some fresh ginger. My stomach lets out another low groan.

Daryl meanders his way into the kitchen just as Carl presents his contribution to dinner. The teenager pulls out two fat rabbits that he caught in his snares. Daryl pats the boy hard on the shoulder. "Well done!" The jovial tone in his voice and smile on his face causes Carl's smile to spread wider with pride.

Laughter envelopes the entire space. Everyone is excited at the knowledge that we are going to bed with full bellies. Beth is right. We need to make room for good memories while we can. We all know it won't last for long. Soon enough we will be on the road, but for once, one small moment in time the horrors of this world disappear. They are replaced with warmth, family, and food. I lift a glass of luke warm water, smile, and toast. "To home sweet home."

please review:)


	4. The Run

**A/N: Thanks for all of you who fav/follow and review this story. I love to know what you think.:) Last warning to those who have not read my short oneshot four days. After this chapter references and certain events will not have the desired effect if you have not read it. This is an AU timeline and only the second in a series of four stories that will jump through time. To all of my fellow Canadians out there, I truly mean no disrespect to our wonderful Country. As my daddy always says "If you can't laugh at yourself, then what's the point eh! Also I love "The Hip," just didn't think Daryl would. Enjoy!**

The sun is streaming through the oversized window when I finally open my eyes and take in a deep breath. As I inhale I am met by an intoxicating fragrance. A combination of vanilla and wildflowers floats through the air and I wonder how the woman at my side can keep up such a sweet scent in such a desolate world. I nuzzled in closer to her and enjoy the moment. Waking up in a warm, soft bed beside my beautiful wife is heaven.

Maggie's body shifts slightly beneath the covers and I know she is waking up. She turns to face me. Her left arm drapes across my bare chest as her leg interlinks with mine. She pushes herself up a little on the pillow and smiles. "Hey."

I reach up to tuck a single strand of her messy hair back behind her ear. "Hey back. Did you sleep well?"

Maggie nods, "Um hum. How 'bout you?"

"Best sleep I've had since we left the prison. That could have something to do with who was beside me though."

"I love you. Be safe today ok."

I flip Maggie over on the mattress so that my body is lined up flush against hers and looking directly in those beautiful emerald-green eyes I whisper, "Always, and I love you too."

She grabs the hair at the back of my head and pulls me down to lay a kiss on my lips. I start moving mine, running my tongue over hers, just hovering there, trying to be as close to her as possible. I continue to let lazy lingering kisses to dance across her lips and I am content.

There is no need to pursue this further than it is now. We both know that morning is already upon us. I will be leaving in a half hours time and we both just want to stay in this bubble a while longer. Leaning in a bit more, I give her one last kiss before sliding my legs off the side of the bed, sit up, and rub my eyes. I put on my pants, slide my belt through the loops, then grab my shirt from the night table where it had been discarded the night before. I throw it over my head as I make for the bedroom door.

Turning to look at her once more I wonder how the hell did I get so lucky? Maggie stands up and walks over to me in nothing but a tight black t-shirt that sits only an inch up from her naval and a black cotton undies. I am stunned. I didn't think it was possible for my wife to look more luminous. I was wrong.

She wraps her arms around my waist and rests her head on my chest. "I mean it, come back to me you hear." She then takes the knife that I left on the table and slides it into the sheath at my side. Her eyes are searching mine and it makes me sad to see the worry that has been added to Maggie's features. I give a reassuring smile. "I promise. It's a short run. Daryl and I will be back before you know it. I love you."

"I love you too." She hugs me close and the worry starts to melt away. Her smile is completely her own again. "Oh Glen, I almost forgot."

"Yah?"

"Maybe today would be a good day to talk to Daryl."

I roll my eyes at her. "Maggie, I'm begging you here. I understand your thoughts when it comes to Beth and Daryl. Believe me I do, but it's like I said last night. I don't think they even realize it. If they do, I really don't think either one is willing to make the first move."

"Yet!"

"So what if they do. Daryl's a good man. He won't hurt Beth. If anything she's safer with him than anyone else here."

Maggie looks down to the floor before she speaks. "It's just..."

"Just what?"

"Beth use to talk to me about stuff like this, you know. Ask for my opinion on things. I miss not knowing what's going on in her life."

I nod in understanding. It is not easy for Maggie to admit things like this so I will make it easy on her. I sigh, "Ok look, I'll talk to Daryl but I want you to talk to your sister." Maggie's posture shifts and I know she is about to speak. Before she can get the words out I place both of my hands on her shoulders and interrupt. "Not interrogate her, but just talk to her. Allow her to share with you. She will if she feels like you won't judge her."

"I don't judge!"

I give Maggs' a cold hard stare.

"Ok, I won't judge."

"Good!" Sliding the strap of the gun over my shoulder I give Maggie a last kiss on her forehead. "I love you. See you later."

"See you later."

We never say goodbye.

I exit the cabin and just as I expect, Daryl is already at the car. The hood of the civic is popped open and Daryl's head and body is leaning in. He is making his usual routine checks before we hit the road. What I wasn't expecting however, is a little Beth sitting on the trunk of the Honda, legs hanging off the side. She has a wrench in her right hand and appears to be in a quiet conversation with the hunter.

I approach the vehical and Beth hops off the trunk in one swift movement. "Hey Glen. You and Maggie have a nice night?"

Daryl must not have heard me come over because he straightens up fast and bangs his head off of the hood. Beth covers her mouth with her hands, trying to hold in a laugh. Daryl just shakes off the incident as though it never happened. The only proof being that he is now rubbing the back of his skull. He nods at the car. "She's already to go. Took you long enough to get down here."

Beth glides over to where I am standing and hands over a piece of paper. "Rick wants you guys to search the pharmacy in Carnsville. Bob made a list of things to look for. It's worth a shot."

"Is there a food store?"

"Yes, but Carnsville was a small town. Chances are good that the store will be picked over already. That or the food's gone bad."

Daryl pipes up. "We'll find something. It's worth looking around." He turns towards me now. "Come on Glen, I've spent enough time waiting on yer ass this morning.

"Fine, but I'm driving!" I let out a laugh as Daryl tosses the keys over the roof of the car. "Sweet!"

"Don't get use to it. I just figured you have had enough beauty sleep. Better to make some use out of you. Just don't crash!" A full on smile flashes across Daryl's face, as does mine. This is the nicest car I've driven since that red porch all those many months ago. When I think on how long it's been since the start I just shake my head. Daryl opens the passenger door and places his crossbow on the floor between his legs as he settles into the seat. I start the engine.

Beth leans her head in through the passenger window and wishes us luck. It's hard to miss the huge smile on her face that matches Daryl's. "Stay safe guys." Beth speaks to us both but her baby blues stay locked on the man at my side. After a brief pause, Daryl clears his throat and breaks eye contact. He peers over at me for a second then back to Beth before he quietly responds in kind. "You too."

All I can do is shake my head and smile. These two are more entertaining than television and a rock concert combined. Beth taps the hood of the car and we are off.

As we start the hour-long drive to nowhere I watch as Daryl sifts through the stack of CD's in the glove box.

"Anything good in there?"

"Not yet." Daryl rolls down the window and proceeds to chuck a CD out on to the pavement. I hear the crunch as the back wheel drives over it. "Hey man, what are you doing?"

"Counting Crows, can you believe that shit?"

I glance over at him as he shuffles through the disks once more. "Look at this one." The look of displeasure on his face leads me to wonder little about the fate of this album. "Tragically Hip, really! Who listens to this crap anyway?

"Almost an entire country actually."

"Pfft, Fucking Canadian's and their shit band!"

As I predicted, he's ready to toss it when I reply, "Maggie and Beth both love the Hip."

"Seriously?"

"Yah, New Orléans is Sinking is one of Beth's favourite songs."

Daryl pulls his hand back into the car and places the disk in the glove box. He sifts through the plastic cases one more time before a smile creeps up on his face as he seems to settle on one. "Here we go. Finally, something decent to listen to." He opens the case and carefully picks up the CD and slides it into the player. At first nothing, than the rhythmic french southern beat of ZZ Top's La Grange, begins to blast through the speakers. A smile plays on Daryl's lips as he takes a cigarette out of the almost empty pack and lights it. He leans back in the seat, seemingly pleased with himself and I must admit, it is perfect.

We drive in a companionable silence for a few clicks before I decide that it's now or never. I take a deep breath before I drop the bomb. "So, you and Beth huh."

Daryl's body shoots up straight as I continue to drive down the road. "What?"

I try hard to control the smile that so desperately wants to show on my face. "I just mean that the two of you seem close, that's all." I glance out the side of my eye to see Daryl's face start to turn red. I didn't think his face capable of that.

His voice is low when he speaks. "Did she say something?"

"No, of course not. You guys just spend a lot of time together, you know."

"Well it's not like that." His voice comes out like a bark. "Beth and I just been through shit together is all."

I nod my head. "Ok." I look back to the road and continue to drive. The tension I have created with my inquiry has yet to dissipate. I want to drop the subject entirely, but then...I turn and look at him. I know I am being cruel here, but his reaction to my simple statement makes it impossible to resist. "It's just...Maggie thinks it's like that."

Time stops. I think I may have just turned Daryl to stone with my spoken words. He is so still. Silence fills the space as the CD comes to an abrupt end and music no longer filters through the air. I begin to think maybe he has just died of shock. Now I know it to be true. There is not a doubt in my mind that something is brewing between them. I turn to look at him once more. Daryl's head is down and I can see tiny beads of sweat forming at his temples. The only sound in the car is one small breath. The proof that the rednecks life force remains intact.

Daryl brings his arm up and slowly drapes his hand across his forehead and still the silence remains. I start to smile. I am going to pay dearly for this. "No one would blame you. Beth's a beautiful girl."

I receive a harsh glare, but Daryl doesn't say a word. He begins to chew at his thumb, a tell-tale sign that he is mulling something over in his brain.

Before I find out what it is however, Daryl grabs the wheel and in a split second swerves us around a walker that has ambled on to the stone road. My breathing is coming in short, quick bursts at the realization of such a close call. Daryl is seething now. All thoughts of our previous conversation lost because of my stupidity.

"Thanks man. Sorry."

"Fuck-wit. Get out. I'm driving."

About twenty very long minutes later we arrive in Carnsville. We slowly drive down the main road until we come across a small problem up ahead. Walkers seem to be gathering at the mom and pop grocery store about a block from the pharmacy. We decide to pull down the closest side street and put the car in park.

Daryl places a bolt in his bow as I check the bullets in the gun. We both adjust the knives at our hips and slowly and silently open the doors of the car. Daryl places one finger over his lips signaling the obvious. The stern look in his eyes all but screaming; Be quiet or I'll fucking kill you myself. I take a rag laying in the back seat and place it around the frame of the door before closing it shut. The rag muffles the sound.

The two of us stay close to the wall of the buildings as we pass. When we near the end of the street, Daryl pulls out a small reflective shard of glass from the rag he keeps in his pocket. He holds it out to see around the corner of the building. I stand facing the opposite direction so that nothing is out of our range of sight. Daryl starts to communicate what he sees and together we develope a plan of attack. Daryl speaks first. "I don't know what has them all riled up over there, but whatever it is I sure as hell don't want to run in to it."

"Dido. The pharmacy is just two stores down from here. I say we go quick and quiet. Get in fast. Looks like there is an alley back that way." I point back the direction we have come from. "We can loop back that way if there's trouble."

Daryl nods his head. "If there's dead in there we are just going to have to deal with them. No time to bang on the door and wait. Don't want to draw attention from the walkers."

"Or people," I add.

Daryl gives me a somber look of understanding. In this world the living are even more dangerous than the dead. Walkers think only of one thing, food. They run on instinct alone. People plot...They kill...They steal...They torture. The Governor taught us that, as did the people who stole Beth away. We would not risk the safety of our family. I nod my head back as Daryl whispers, "On three. One, Two, Three."

Let me know what you think. Please review:)


	5. Noah Part 1

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who follows/favs and reviews this story. You have all been so kind. I hope you still will be after this. I own nothing walking dead, it owns me. Also the title character in this chapter was written well before the show brought in a character of the same name. The Noah in this story is my own. Please don't confuse the two. Picture a much younger version of Daryl if he were growing up in this world. **

We make our way around the building. Daryl raises his crossbow so that it is lined up perfectly level with his shoulders and directs his aim at the large group of walkers near the grocery store. He turns my way, nods, and we are off. Quickly we head over to the pharmacy a short distance away. Whatever has caused the cluster of walkers to gather down the street is keeping them occupied. None of them have noticed us.

We are fast and in no time at all, standing in front of our first destination of the day. The store front is made up of three separate panels of glass. I ready my knife just in case, throw a glance back to Daryl and turn the knob.

A welcome bell rings as the door swings open. The soft chimes meant to alert staff to customers entering the store, now may as well be a dinner bell for the effect it has. Instantly beads of sweat start to form around my hairline. The two of us peer out the window and notice several walkers have started to head our way. It's nothing we can't handle, but any movement or noise is only going to alert their friends. Lucky for us none of those friends seem to be inside the store.

Daryl grabs the bell in his hand and pulls hard, breaking the string. He scowls. I silently motion for him to take the other end of the nearly empty shelving unit close to the entrance. Together we lift it up and block the door.

All that is left on the shelf is a box of tampons and some band aids. I grab both items, open my pack and drop them inside. The two of us begin to creep up the isles, pilfering whatever we can find. A ray of sunlight filters in through the glass revealing thousands of tiny particals floating in the air. It is damp and the air is thick and musty. I can practically taste the mildew on my tongue. Nobody has been in here for a very long time.

Daryl has already made his way deep into the pharmacy when he startles me from my thoughts. "Hey Korea, catch!"

My arms react before my brain has a chance to process the action. A box flies over a couple of rows of shelves, landing perfectly in my hands. I look up to see a devilish glint in Daryl's eyes. "Ya need those right?" I roll my eyes before throwing the condoms in my bag.

Daryl rounds the counter near the back of the store with list in hand while I cautiously make my way down the isles, dropping various items of use in the back pack. I wander slowly, taking in the state of the run down structure, when I find myself standing in front of the baby supplies. I gaze down to notice one hand already gripping a package of diapers. Instantly a pang of sadness hit my heart like a tidal wave with the realization of what I have just done. I have not allowed myself to think much on Judith since the prison. Not knowing is just to painful. I put the package back on the shelf and I know that I will say a prayer for her tonight.

Daryl calls out from the storage room where the pharmaceuticals are kept safe from the public. "Glen you won't believe it. Our man Rick must have had a sixth sense about this place. We just hit the mother load! Everything here from penicillin to prozac, inhalers to baby aspirin. We could really use this if Judith ever gets si...ck." I hear a bottle of pills being put on a glass shelf and a long pause follows, until finally a small sigh gives way from his throat. I know Daryl misses Jude too, although I doubt he would ever say it out loud. It is a real sore spot with the group, especially for the Grimes family. Nobody likes to talk about it.

I am pulled from my present thoughts by a dull rhythmic thumping that grows louder as the seconds pass. I look to the direction of the noise only to discover more walkers have found their way to the entrance now, clawing at the storefront and desperately seeking access. The glass begins to shake from the pressure, and the shelf in front of the door starts to sway.

No longer do I suffer paralyzing fear. That ended years ago. Knowledge and experience with these things has taken it away. It doesn't however take away the anxiety of a desperate situation. My stomach still twists in a tight knot at the sight of these creatures. I just counteract the effect of it by always having a plan. Don't let yourself get caught in a trap. Always find a way out.

My eyes search frantically for the back exit. I spot it quickly before flinging my pack over one shoulder and making a mad dash for the door. "Daryl, pack the shit up! Grab what you can! We need to leave now!"

Daryl rushes out from behind the counter and the sudden concern on his face mirrors mine. What was once low static groans are becoming increasingly loud moans of hunger as more and more of the dead pile up and push hard against the door. There is a loud crash as the shelving unit falls to the floor. Small cracks form and expand on the glass before our eyes.

When we reach the rear entrance, I pull the security bar off the door. It is solid, heavy, perfect. Bouncing the weight of the bar in my arms I decide on my weapon and grip it hard. Turning to look at the archer I whisper, "Ready?"

Daryl notches an arrow in place, raises the Stryker and nods his reply as we both prepare to exit into the alley. I stand to the side and reach across the door to pull the latch. Then I push hard and the door swings open with speed and force. Gunshots ring through the air as we leap into the alley looking in all directions, anticipating a threat. "Where the hell did that come from?" I desperately seek an answer from the hunter.

"Don't know but I'm sure as hell not waiting around to find out! Let's go!"

We turn in the direction of the Honda and start sprinting toward it. I look back to see walkers have rounded the far end of the long alley, but are too far off for us to bother with. We are almost to the end of the narrow walkway and back on the street when things fall apart.

A kid no more than fourteen is barreling full tilt round the corner of the building, running directly at us. Behind him are half a dozen walkers snarling and snapping their jaws. I look behind us again to find half a dozen more. We are trapped. My instinct takes over.

There is no time to think, only act. Daryl fires a clean shot through the head of a corpse as I swing the steel bar in my hand, bashing the brains of another. Brain matter splatters across the brick and the body slumps to the ground. I spin 'round without thought, ramming the blunt pole straight through the open mouth of a hideous one-armed woman. Her intestines are spilling out of a hole where her abdomen use to be. The stench is overpowering.

Daryl grabs the strap of my backpack and launches me out-of-the-way as the new kid takes aim and fires off two rounds. The shots take out two more of these creatures now laying directly behind where I was standing. In the same instant, Daryl sails a bolt in the opposite direction. It hits its target as I find my feet. Stumbling forward, I pull the bolt from the walker with just enough time to stab it through the temple of another. It connects with a sickening crunch.

The three of us come together, back to back, keeping a solid view of all sides. Trust in this new person cannot be an issue at the moment. Daryl kicks one of the walkers back hard against the wall. With no time to load his bow, he pulls the knife from its sheath and completes the task before I have time to even process it.

Only a few more to go now.

I am suddenly thrust on the pavement, rolling over onto my back, instantly I fumble to grab hold of the walker hovering above me. My hands barely keep their grip on the fat bastard as they slip off of the loose decaying flesh at its neck. I begin to wonder if this is it.

Glancing to my right for assistance, I see Daryl fighting two walkers simultaneously. He cold cocks one with the blunt end of his crossbow, then throws the weapon to the ground and begins to bang the other walkers head repeatedly against the wall.

No help there.

I look to my left, desperate now. The new kid has lost the grip of his gun and is now trying to take on one of the creature with nothing but a small switch blade.

I am on my own it seems. I take a deep breath of putrid air. It's now or never so I make my choice. With my left hand still holding the hulking weight of the walker, I release my right and make for the knife at my side. My arm is shaking from the strain. I am exhausted. In one final burst of energy I push the walker a bit higher off my body, lean forward and thrust the knife through its skull with the last of my strength. I take another breath and try to control the tremors surging up and through every nerve ending in my body. My pulse is racing and I shake uncontrollably as I roll the walker off and away from me. I stand up and I am drained by the effort it takes.

Using my foot as leverage, I pull the knife out of the rotting flesh and then take in the scene before me. It is done. The twice dead corpses are scattered about the narrow space, bits and pieces are clinging to the fabric of our clothes. Daryl is dripping with blood. The smell of death is all around us. I want to collapse on the ground, maybe even cry a little although I know that is not an option. Instead I focus my attention to the boy before me. He has just enough time to grab his gun and place it in the holster before Daryl grabs him by the collar of his shirt and pushes him back against the wall.

"Daryl, what the hell man? He just saved our ass!"

"Our ass wouldn't need savin' if it weren't for him."

Daryl is inches away from this kid's face. You can practically see the adrenaline still flowing in his veins. His hair is hanging in greasy, sweat soaked strains around his face. His chest is still heaving from the effort of a battle just fought. "We heard shots. Who are you with?" Daryl's voice is heavily laced with mistrust. It's thick and hard. I honestly don't think Daryl has even blinked yet as he stares the kid down.

"No...no...nobody else, honest. I was the one who shot the gun."

Before Daryl can respond to the boys answer, I quickly blurt out, "What's your name?"

"Noah."

**I had so much fun writing this chapter! Please let me know what you think of it. Honestly good/bad. I hope I did the show justice with this one:) On another note, I will be on vacation for the next two weeks. Taking the kids to Disney so I will not be posting until I get back, but not to worry. The next chapter is already loaded in my laptop and ready to go the minute I walk back through the doors. Thanks for reading:) TWD withdrawl**


	6. Noah Part 2

**A/N: So we are in the action part of my story now, but I promise the fluffy angst will return in just a few chapters. This chapter is a bit of a beast though. There was no good way to break it up and I needed the next chapter to be fairly focused on one important scene. I almost wanted to post the two together, but then I came to my senses. I can be patient:) Anyway, as always I want to say thank you for your favs/follows and reviews. I am humbled by it. enjoy!**

This is the first time I really get a good look at the kid. Noah's clothes, like our own are caked in blood, dirt, and sweat. A large rip in the collar of his shirt is evidence of Daryl's blatant mistrust. Daryl is apprehensive of everyone who isn't us and I understand it fully. Without much thought my gun is already trained on the kid. Trusting strangers will get you killed fast in this world.

Noah's body is lean, but not fit. He is tall and a buck forty soaking wet. His sandy brown hair is cropped short and jagged and his eyes are lifeless and cold. The bags underneath the sockets tell a story all their own. This kid has suffered loss along the way. If eyes are the window to the soul, his soul has been through hell. That being said, I can still see cracks in his armor. A tear has formed at the corner of his eye, either from sadness, fear, or simply the harsh smell around us. Regardless the salt water enhances yellow flecks that show in his almond-shaped orbs and mix well with the green that also lives there.

Noah figits under Daryl's scrutinizing glare. Impressively enough the kid manages to stand his ground. I ready myself for any contingency. Tension weighs heavy in the air as Daryl studies the boy. "What are you doing here?"

The kid's jaw juts out and he squares his shoulders. The stiff demeanor of his stance matches the blazing intensity in his eyes as he holds the stare of the hunter. "Scavaging, same as you. Needed food."

The redneck backs off a step. His eyes have opened slightly so they are no longer narrow slits, and he brings a hand up to his chin as though sorting something out in his brain. Daryl strokes the stubble at his sharp jaw line, tilts his head and grunts once. One thing he doesn't do is lower the crossbow that is aimed directly at Noah's head.

Speaking up in an attempt to clear the tension from the air and once again get us moving I ask, "How many walkers you kill?"

I am surprised by the answer. "Fifteen maybe. Killed four of them today."

With only fifteen kills under his belt Noah oddly enough seems proud.

"Fifteen, since the start?"

"When we lost our home the group scattered. My cousin Albert was one of the hunters, he took care of things while my job was to keep watch. I mostly just stayed to the woods. When we did venture away from the area, I usually tried to sneak by them unseen. Albert was more the killer."

"Where's Albert now?" I dart my eyes around the alley checking for a potential threat.

Not a beat passes before Noah's response. "Eaten ." He then motions his head in the direction of the grocery store as the word falls from his tongue casually and with little emotion."

Somethings just not adding up here. I chance a quick look over at Daryl in hopes of gaining insight as to what he may be thinking. All I receive in return is a stern, poker face. Instantly the hunter picks up my line of questioning and I continue to watch Noah intently, trying to gage his body language. "How many people you kill?" Daryl snaps it out for effect.

Noah's eyes spread wide and begin to dart around the alley. His body becomes rigid and I can see his hand sliding closer to his gun. Apparently we are not the only ones with trust issues.

"I will kill you dead boy!" Daryl makes no bones about it. We are not playing games.

I can't put my finger on it, I wish I could, but there is something off about this kid. To look at Noah, he doesn't seem much of a threat, but looks can be deceiving. In the fight just moments ago, Noah shot those creatures like it was nothing. Turning my head to examine the ground I find the ones I am referring to. The twice dead, each with a bullet hole square in the middle of their foreheads. Not to shabby for a kid who spent most of his time since losing his group, avoiding walkers in the woods.

A loud crash of thunder, hammers through the air. Without faltering my movements and not wanting to compromise my aim, I sneak a quick glance up towards the sky. Ominous grey storm clouds have begun to gather and form together, blocking out the sun that shone bright earlier today. Sudden storms are common this time of year, a sign summer is soon going to end. I just hope the storm holds out a little longer. I don't want to be standing in this alley when the rain begins to fall.

Walkers become unpredictable in a rain storm. Some of us witnessed the effect when living in the prison. The sound of thunder only adds to their unnatural aggression. They begin to gather in larger groups, following the noise. If lightening sparks, they will move towards the light instantly making the creatures exceedingly hard to avoid.

Noah slowly puts his hands up in surrender. His hazel eyes are ice-cold, the black pupils but tiny pin pricks in the center. When he speaks his voice is even and controlled, lacking in even the slightest of emotion. "One," he answers.

Noah shifts uncomfortably under Daryl's impenetrable stare. The archer's crossbow trained on its target and ready to kill should the moment call for it. "Why?"

The sky is growing darker. The gentle breeze from this morning has now been replaced by a stronger current that is whipping up litter and dust on the ground. It blows the putrid stench of decay straight up my nostrils, causing my stomach to lurch and twist. The sickly sweet smell of rotting flesh mixed with bloods metallic odour travels up my nasal passage, burning at the back of my throat. I turn back in the direction of my friend. Daryl is completely unaffected by it, or if he is it never gives way on his face. He is a machine.

Once again the booming crash of thunder echos in my ear. It is followed by a sudden flash in the distance and I feel a cool wet drop on my skin. The sound is much closer now and I question my decision to start interrogating the kid here in the alley. Daryl's actions had not left much choice in the matter, but still...I like to reserve judgement.

"I asked you a question boy. You best be answering it."

Noah clears his throat and attempts to stand a little taller now. "Two years ago our group found a train station. We cleared it and moved in. I was twelve then. It was the first time since this thing started that I felt safe. My older brother Gareth said It was a new start for us. Said we could have lives here. We had fences. Grew vegetables in make shift gardens, and everybody chipped in to help. My mother Mary wanted more for us though. She said that we needed to let others in. She said that we should make it a sanctuary for all survivors and form a community. She always saw the good in people you know. Anyway, my brother Alex, who's also older, and a few of the others went out and put up signs with maps leading the way to our home. We called it Terminus."

I give Daryl a quick look and roll my eyes. I can see where this is going already. How could an entire group be so stupid.

Daryl glances back, then slowly shakes his head as if he has read my mind.

I let out a small sigh and nod for Noah to continue. "Go on."

"The wrong sort came. They took the place by force. We weren't fighters. They raped the women, beat the men. They locked us in a train car for weeks on end, barely giving us enough food and water to survive. Worst of all they laughed. Told us we were stupid. Said that we asked for it, but not to worry, we got the message loud and clear. Gareth's leadership saved us all. He organized a mutiny against our oppressors and lead us to victory in the end. Lost a lot of friends though." For the first time since meeting Noah, the arrogance has been stripped from his voice leaving me to sense a deep sadness bubbling up in him. His eyes are definitely glistening with water now.

Noah clears his throat, forcing down the emotion. "I killed the man who raped my mom."

There's a brief pause before I see Daryl nod his head in understanding. He lowers the Stryker and relaxes his shoulders somewhat. The menace and disdain that dripped off his tongue minutes before is replaced by a somber and serious tone of compassion. "Grab your shit kid. We won't hurt you. Your free to go."

Noah doesn't hesitate. He sifts through the dead for the switch blade he dropped, grabs his worn duffel bag, and runs off in the opposite direction.

Daryl stands there for a beat, watching Noah leave and he looks to be unsure. Questions circle in the depths of his blue eyes. Rick usually makes the calls, maybe that is what bothers him.

"Daryl man, we need to get back. This isn't going to be a sun shower!"

The drops of rain are slow in coming, never the less a slight pattering can be heard as the water hits the ground at our feet. I pull my arms through the loops of my pack and begin to scour the pavement for the security bar I dropped during the fight. Realizing what I have to do, I quickly turn over the bastard who almost ended me. The bar is dripping with a thick black substance expelled by the giant and I have no choice but to wipe it on my already bloody pants. I proceed to sling the rifle over my shoulder and watch as Daryl pulls four bolts from four corpses then grabs his pack aswell.

We turn to move quickly through the rain along the back alley, heading in the direction of our final destination of the day. I spare a glance over my shoulder and frown. Noah is long gone.

The two of us weave a short ways through the back streets of town before Daryl points at the sign we passed on the way into this God forsaken place. Keeping alert as ever, we only encounter two walkers on the way. Daryl easily takes them down with a couple of bolts. With the exception of the two walkers and the storm brewing above us, the street is calm.

The storefront is huge and it gives me hope that it may still contain the items we need. I turn to the man at my side. "You want to do the honors, or should I?"

Daryl bangs on the glass of Joes Ammo and Hunting Supplies. Then we wait.

Sitting side by side on the narrow cement ledge outside the store we both try to keep our bodies under the small overhang. I am soaked head to toe, as is Daryl. He takes the opportunity to fish out the last cigarette from a soggy pack. He tosses the empty pack on the ground and starts patting his shirt pocket for the lighter. He gives it a few solid shakes, turning it on its side and back before lighting the smoke. "Looks like it's a good thing this is the last smoke. Lighter's cooked." He throws it on the pavement and it hits the ground with a brief spark.

Waiting for the walkers to show themselves inside the store, I begin to contemplate all that has occurred today. I look at Daryl and then back to my feet. He's chewing on the side of his thumb, deep in thought. I have a hard time sitting still in situations like this. I always feel the need to talk or something. "You know you made the right call, right. Rick would've done the same. Any of us would. We couldn't have taken Noah with us." Daryl's hair is sticking to his face so I can only see part of one eye. He shrugs in indifference, but I can tell that it's bothering him. We have known each other a long time. Saved each other's lives more than once. I know he questions his own decision to let the kid leave even if he doesn't voice it. "We don't have the prison any more. There was no way we could have let him come. Too many unanswered questions and then there's the..."

"Rhee! Will you shut the fuck up! This ain't no damn talk show where we share feelings and shit. Go cry to Maggie with that crap." Daryl draws another drag from his cigarette, holding in the smoke before releasing it in a long, slow breath. He gives a little huff before adding, "I just don't like loose ends is all."

Startled by loud groans and a scratching on the glass, I involuntarily jump clear off the ledge. I stumble backwards, trip, and land flat on my ass. A much needed laugh escapes Daryl. It wipes the dower expression off of his face as it fills the air. The hunter grabs his beloved crossbow from where is resting against the wall and steps forward. He extends an arm out and pulls me swiftly to my feet, then claps me firmly on the back. "A bit jumpy aren't we." The smile doesn't leave his face as he shakes his head, chuckling to himself before adding, "How you lasted this long is a wonder. Now let's get this thing done."

Between the two of us we dispatch the walkers in the store with ease and gather what we can. Daryl finds some bolts for his Stryker at the far end of the run down store. He also manages to find some fishing line, and rope that the shop owner had kept behind the desk.

I search the collection of long blades that are mostly rusted from water damage clearly caused by a gaping hole in the roof above my head. A machete on the wall holds my attention. The floorboards creak and groan under my weight and I pray it does not buckle beneath me as I make my way over to my prize. The machete has a black handle and for a moment I almost feel like Michonne as I wield it cleanly through the air. I decide that it could definitely come in handy so I take the brilliant piece of steel and attach it to my belt. I look over to Daryl. He is hunched over a glass display case full of hunting knives. Something has caught his interest. "Don't you have enough knives in your collection."

"S'not for me. It's for Beth. The one she has is dull as shit." He looks down to the cut on his finger that is still tied with the piece of his shirt."

Instantly the corners of my lips turn up. This is the one topic of conversation in which I have the upper hand. Just the simple smile on my face these days is enough to make the generally stoic and reserved hunter squirm, but before I can open my mouth Daryl smashes the glass of the cabinet and chooses a knife. It's a nice one too. Perfect for the petite blonde. The Gerber locking knife he chooses comes complete with hand grip, serrated blade and black leather sheath. It's one of the better knives left in the shop. Most definitely the best one for Beth. I am genuinely impressed. "Good choice. She will really appreciate that."

"Stop!"

"I'm being serious man, it's a good choice. She will be able to use that easily. The handle is small enough it won't be awkward for her, and she can use it for more than just killing walkers. She'll like it." I am careful with my words, knowing just how much thought Daryl put into that knife.

At my comment Daryl shifts his feet and looks down to the floor, "Just want her to be safe." Red is creeping back up to his ears before he simply grunts out, "Let's go."

The sky is still dark grey when we leave the shop but the rain has finally subsided some. It is now just a dull sprinkling of water. Since Daryl's pack contains most of the medicine, we throw the newly acquired weapons as well as ammunition in my bag, adding substantially to the weight of it, then make our way back to the civic.

With the car in sight my only focus is getting out of here and back to Maggie. Daryl has his bow in hand and is setting a good pace back to the vehicle. I slow to a walk when we get close and just as I do I feel the hollow end of a gun pressed against the back of my head. The click of the safety is released, and it echos in my ear. Daryl whips 'round with crossbow in hand mere seconds before I hear the familiar voice of Noah begin to speak. "Tsk, Tsk, Tsk. You really didn't think I would let you leave did you? Not without me. Like I said, my people need food."

**Sorry for cliff hanger, couldn't be helped:)**


	7. What really happened

**A/N: So if you decided not to read Four Days that's ok. Just go with this chapter than. You will still find out what happened, you just won't know the lengths Daryl's willing to extend himself in order to protect Beth from the ugliness of the world in which they live. Also my little joke at the end won't make you laugh. LOL :) Thanks to those who fav/follow and review and to all of you who are simply enjoying reading it. You guys make me smile:) This is for a certain someone who I made a promise to. I always keep my promises, so I hope I have done it justice with this chapter.**

**Small disclaimer: I own nothing the walking dead, nor would I ever claim to. As far as I am concerned Robert Kirkman is a genius. Enjoy!**

At first I can not think a single isolated thought. All I can concentrate on is the feel of the gun barrel pushed flush against my skull and I forget how to breathe. All my rules for survival become obsolete in this moment. I need time to focus. My mouth is dry. I swallow hard but try as I might I am unable to produce a single drop of saliva in which to form words. My heart is pounding in my ears. One false move by Noah, Daryl, or myself and I am done. I barely feel the wind blow across my damp skin, or the goose-flesh that bumps up immediately there after. All I can think of is the promise I made to Maggie. That I would stay safe for her. That I would come home.

Maggie's face is burned crystal clear in my memory. I think of her brilliant smile that can pull me from my darkest thoughts. I imagine her warm embrace wrapped around me now, holding me together and willing me to stay strong. It lifts me up and gives me comfort.

I remember making love to her last night. The second the bedroom door slammed shut we were all over one another like we needed the other to breathe. Instantly clothes were flying through the air in a frenzy as we stripped away the final barrier between us. We never even made it to the bed, opting instead to take each other against the wall. It wasn't gentle or sweet. It was a desperate primal need. We were magnet to metal, drawn together by force alone. Our bodies fit together like two pieces of a puzzle designed specifically for the other.

I remember the love that I felt in that moment like it was a tangible object I could touch and hold close. The emotion burst forth from my chest and spilled out into the air, filling the space around us as I thrust into her. The earth stopped spinning. The floor and walls around us vanished so that we were floating, just the two of us in this space we created together. I felt absolute peace and calm. Our bodies synced up without thought and our movements gained momentum fast. It was never going to last long like that. We experienced our release in the same moment. It had never happened like that before. Both of us pulsing together as wave after wave crashed against the next, pushing our combined orgasm along for a solid half hour.

I think how we were after. How we lay in a limp and crumpled mass on the cold floor; A ball of interlinking limbs, hair, and sweat soaked skin. Neither of us having the strength to separate our connecting bodies. We bared our souls then. We Stretched them out before the other, naked in the truest sense of the word and I have never felt so safe.

I remember what I told her then. I said I believed in hope for humanity. That if a love like ours could exist, if two people could place absolute trust and faith in the other with the world as it is, than anything is possible. She smiled.

Somewhere down deep in the recesses of my mind I hear her voice. "Come back to me, you hear." It is small at first but it starts to resonate louder and louder as the words push themselves closer to the forefront of my brain. I can practically hear them in my ears now. The words themselves give me strength and courage as I finally regain functional use of my mind. For the first time since I felt the gun pointing into my skull, I take in a deep breath.

How long have we been standing like this I wonder? Seconds maybe. Noah is using my body as a shield. He is directly behind me and when I look up I see why.

I lift my eyes to meet those of my friend, however I am greeted by those of a hunter. Daryl is only twenty paces from where I stand and yet the gap is immeasurable. His legs are shoulder width apart. His left leg is slightly forward and bent at the knee. His narrow hips and upper torso are facing forward and his arms and shoulders that support the weight of his crossbow match the stance of his lower half, so that every inch of his body is in line with the other. His central core is rigid, and I know he is waiting for his moment to attack. The dirt that is smeared across his biceps only enhance the flexed muscles of his huge forearms. I have seen this stance before when Daryl was teaching Beth fighting techniques. He is bracing himself for battle.

I look into the steel-blue of his eyes, pleading with him to find another way, but receive no information within his stare that will up my odds any. This is going to end badly if I cannot think of something fast. I glance back to Daryl, but nothing is registering on his face. I haven't seen that look since he found out that we left Meryl on the roof. (I honestly thought Daryl was going to kill Rick that day). Every line drawn on his face is prominent. His eyes are focused on his target and he is being careful not to spook his prey.

"Archer, place the bow and the bag in the back and get in the front seat of the car. We're going on a little ride. Which one of you has the keys?"

Daryl does not move or speak. I do notice a slight twitch in his left eyebrow. I am not sure whether he is observing the situation or about to pounce.

Once more Noah speaks, only now it is taunting. "I asked you a question...boy, you best be answering it or the Asian here won't be walking away from this."

Daryl lowers his eyes to the ground and shakes his head a little. I can visibly see the rage that is bubbling up in him as well as the effort it is taking for him not to just lunge at Noah, consequences be damned. In a low throaty rumble he answers. "I got em."

"Good. That wasn't so hard was it? Bend down and slide them over, nice and slow."

Daryl slides the keys across the pavement and then proceeds to walk around the car and get in the passenger side. Noah stops the keys from sliding with the heel of his boot, then has me lean down to pick them up. Not once does the gun leave my head, it only shifts slightly so that it is now on my temple. Daryl never takes his eyes off of Noah. Before he lowers his body into the Honda Daryl juts his jaw forward in contempt, and with a thick southern drawl shouts out, "Hay dickhead, he's Korean." I can not help the upturn of my lips as a result of the comment. The cocky smirk he throws Noah before settling in the seat tells me that even in our current situation my friend is still there. He's got my back.

Noah grabs my shoulders and turns me the rest of the way, so as to check my person for additional weapons. I hold my arms up to make it easier and he relieves me of my riffle, Machete, and backpack that he throws on the ground and orders me to open. When I do, he looks pleased at the contents.

"Look, take the bags, the car, and just let us go." Noah lifts the bag of weapons onto his shoulder, hands me the keys and using the gun as encouragement walks me over to the car. A look of concern graces his features and he shakes his head. "Can't do that." His voice has taken on a serious yet compassionate tone that it had otherwise not possessed. When Noah and I get inside the vehicle with Daryl, I in the driver's seat and Noah in the back with gun still pointed at my head, he continues, "See, this is not something I want to do. It is something I have to do, to survive. Now start the engine and let's get going. There are people waiting."

I do as the kid says and start to drive in the direction he has indicated not fully understanding why. "What do you mean by people? Thought you said your group was gone."

"No, I said we were scattered. I Did not say we didn't have ways of finding one another. Like I said before, my brother Gareth is an excellent leader. There was always a contingency plan in place for if things went bad."

For the first time since I entered the car Daryl adds his voice to the conversation. "How is it that you expect us to be able to help?"

Noah laughs out loud at the hunter's question. It is a roaring, obnoxious, gut busting, I just heard the funniest fucking joke on the planet kind of laugh. "I already told you, we need food and you my friends, will do nicely."

My breath becomes laboured as my eyes grow wide with the realization of what this kid is a part of. "Gulp," I swallow down the bile that has come up in my throat. The acidic taste makes my eyes tear up. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I can feel the knot start to grow tight in my gut and I hold back the urge to throw up. The words fall from my tongue before I can filter them. "Cannibals! Your fucking cannibals!" Beads of sweat start to pour down around my hairline. As if the world wasn't screwed up enough, now I am driving my way to my own slaughter.

I spare a quick glance to Daryl. He is calm...Too calm. His breathing is even and all the palpable anger from before has dissipated. He stays that way for a long while as if in a trance. Then out of nowhere he makes a comment. His voice is quiet, just above a whisper really. "The signs your group put up...they never took them down did they?"

"No, we did not. After we fought to regain control of Terminus, certain rules were put in place. We developed a sort of code if you will. Never again. Never trust. Us first, always."

Daryl sends a darting glance in my direction and with discretion he brings his hand up past his right leg. It is just enough so that I can see the glint that reflects off of the knife at his side before it disappears out of sight once more. I give a small nod to Daryl. Relief washes over me when I am reminded that Daryl still has a hold of the knife he picked up for Beth. Now we just have to pick our moment.

The bitterness starts to seep into Daryl's voice and I can tell that it is taking every ounce of his self-control to keep an even tone. "You lured innocent people into a trap, stole their shit, and if that wasn't bad enough your telling me that you and yours ate the flesh from their bones. You sick fuck!"

I feel the gun push into the occipital bone at the back of my head as Noah leans his body forward in the back seat. He proceeds to place an elbow on Daryl's shoulder (man this kid has balls), and responds to the hunter's accusation. He tilts his head toward Daryl, yet he is close enough for me to feel his breath at my neck. "You make it sound so horrible. This is survival. Look around, it's either eat or be eaten. Your either the butcher...or the cattle."

At that, Daryl turns sharply to his left and plunges the knife down into Noah's forearm. I hear the click of the trigger and my world stops. The gun jams up, but I very nearly piss myself regardless. Daryl doesn't skip a beat as he continues his assault of our abductor. He reaches behind the kid's head, pulling the shirt up over it, and using the leverage it creates to propel Noah forward. I receive a stinging blow to the side of my cheek as one of Noah's knees connects hard. A flash of light and colour burst before my eyes. It forces my head to the side and I take the car with it, swerving us sharply to the left. I hear a clink as Beth's knife falls from Daryl's grasp and onto the floor.

The momentum at which Daryl pulls Noah's body forward combined with the jarring motion of the car, causes Noah's head to make impact with the dashboard leaving a substantial dent over the glove box. It does not slow him down for long, and while both combatants try to regain their balance in the moving vehicle I attempt to control of the situation the only way I can. I reach down to change gears but find that Noah's knee is wedged in against the stick. While both males wrestle for the lost knife, I have no choice but to drive. If I slam on the brakes I run the risk of injuring Daryl as much as Noah.

The close confines of the car make it difficult for either person to gain the upper hand. Noah throws a punch and it connects to Daryl's nose, however with little room for follow-through it only enrages the hunter further. He lunges at Noah with the weight of his entire body, thrusting both he and I into the driver's side door. The civic swerves once more. I instinctively turn back the wheel hard. My overcorrection flings them back over to the other side. It gives Daryl his opening and he grabs Noah's head in his hands. My eyes dart over quickly scanning the scene just as Daryl makes one final push and bashes the kid head first into the CD player. A spark flashes and Daryl repeats the action once more, this time loosening the radio enough that it falls free from its confines, hanging only by a few wires.

I stop the car and Daryl opens the door to toss Noah's body the hell out.

Huffing hard, I try to catch my breath, only to struggle with the next. I continue to sit there, desperately willing my mind to catch up and my breath to even out as I try to process what has happened. The more I think about it the angrier I become. The angrier I become the more I want to lash out. I am seeing is red. "What the fuck was that? You could have killed me!"

"I just saved our asses. Show some 'preciation"

"Appreciation! Appreciation! He pulled the trigger Daryl!"

"It didn't go off!"

"It could've!"

"But it didn't. So just calm down and relax. I gotta think."

Huff, Huff, Huff, Huff, Huff

We sit there for a long while. As the anger starts to subside I turn to look over at my friend. "Sorry for yelling."

Daryl shrugs, "s'alright. How we gonna fix this though?" I watch as he holds the dangling CD player in his hand. A disheartened look of loss settles on his features, and I have no idea why. Surely it can't be for Hannibal Lector back there. "Something bothering you? I mean, other than the fact that we were just kidnapped by a cannibal and could've died?"

"It's Beth."

My eyebrows shoot up. I was definitely not expecting him to respond with Beth. "Beth?"

"Damn woman, said she was really looking forward to listening to the music you know. Ever since Rick told her she could go on the next run it is all she has talked about. I told her that she didn't have to wait, but she insisted. She said we could not afford any unnecessary drain on the battery and that she could be patient."

"Sounds like Beth alright. She'll get over it though."

Daryl goes to shut the glove box only to have it swing back open. His frustration becomes more evident when he lays the thing out with one solid punch. It only exacerbates the problem though because now it will not shut at all and hangs at an odd angle. Daryl lowers his head and lets out a long deep sigh."Pfft. Damn glove box." Blood begins to flow from the knuckles of his hand but he is too focused on the dash to notice. "_It's only_ gonna rub her nose in it." He waves at the CD's still amassed in the open glove box.

"It's not like there wasn't good reason. When we tell them what happened, she'll understand."

"No! Beth's been through too much already. No need for her to know what happened here. Just gotta think of something."

I can see that Daryl is not going to bend on this.

I pause for a moment, and then offer a sage piece of good ol' Glen wisdom. "Not that you care about her or anything, but I have an idea that might help."

"Yah, and what's that?"

"When Maggie is on me about something I don't want to share, I share something else instead. Personally I find offering her an endearing childhood memory usually does the trick."

"What are you going on about now. How does that have anything to do with this?"

I see that I am going to have to break this down a little bit more. "You see, Maggie wants me to be honest with her. She's always going on about how I should open up to her more. So I share something personal and sweet and she is so happy that I am being open with her, it distracts her from the topic at hand."

Once more a downcast expression crosses the hunter's face. Daryl has his thumb back to his lips and I could sware that he is going to chew the thing right off. He grunts, then speaks so low that I have to strain to hear the words. "I Don't have no endearing childhood memories."

"Come on Daryl, you must have one."

**Hope you enjoyed it! **


	8. While you were gone

**A/N: Thank you to those who fav/follow and review this story. It gives me motivation to carry on! This chapter will be told through Maggie's Pov because as the chapter states, Glen is gone so he really can't tell this part. I wanted to show the relationship these two sisters have and also their vast differences. I couldn't think of a better way, but not to worry. Glen's Pov will return as soon as they get back... that is if they get back. I don't like spoilers. LOL Please Enjoy!**

Earlier that day

Maggie's POV

As quickly as the door shuts behind Glen I feel the tears prick at the corners of my eyes. I brush them away with my hand as fast as they form, knowing full well many more are waiting to take their place. My fingers instinctively run over the spot on my forehead where his lips last touched my skin and my body sinks to the floor, sliding down with my back against the wall and knees bent. I wrap my arms around my legs as I allow myself this moment to fret. Every time he leaves I'm forced to face my greatest fear. One day...maybe today, Glen might not come home. It is the reality of our world now. I lived through it already with Shaun and Momma. Then with Daddy...even Beth; Although with Beth I am given a second chance. A chance to finally be a sister to her, like it use to be before I left for college. Beth was just a kid then and she still looked up to me.

I hear the sound of the engine roar to life outside the little house and I am drawn to the window in hopes of catching one last glimpse of the man I love. Glen and I had agreed on saying our goodbyes right here in this room, even though we never actually say goodbye. It just doesn't sit well these days. To many things can go wrong. The window pane feels cool against my lips as I whisper a final "I love you," out into the universe. I peer through the window a while longer and watch as Beth stands at the end of the cobblestone path waving her hand in the air. The dust from the road kicks up as the wheels peel away, obstructing a clear view of the car. I shake my head and chuckle. My baby loves to drive.

When I see Beth standing there alone it hits me like a sledge-hammer. I am not quite sure what it is about the sight of her exactly that finally makes me see the light. Glen is right about Beth and I. I need to stop being her overbearing sister and instead, just be her sister. I ponder our relationship, trying to figure out a way to start fresh. We have so much history together. So much of our lives are interwoven, entwined within the same story. It makes starting over seem impossible. This is too important to run away from though. Maybe all I need to do is change my overall approach here. That thought alone gives me an idea. I grab my clothes that are scattered about the room and put the knife in my belt, and the gun in my holster, smiling the entire time.

The sun is shining bright and the weather is warm. If luck is on my side than this is going to be a great day. I fling open the window and shout down to Beth "Hey dewdrop, how 'bout you and I go for a walk today. We could check out the small pond Rosita was telling us about. Catch up maybe?" I cross my fingers in hopes that she will say yes. This could very well be the thing the two of us need most...Time.

Beth smiles up at me and rolls her big blue eyes, a trait made known by just about every member of the Greene family, I'm afraid. We all do it...or at least we all did. I push down the lump in my throat that is fighting for control of my mood. I will not allow myself time to be consumed by sad memories. Life is to short and unpredictable for that these days. I await her response. "Fine," she says, "but only on one condition."

"And what's that?"

"Stop calling me dewdrop! It's embarrassing."

"Sure thing dewdrop." I shut the window quick so as not to hear her inevitable retort, then bound out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. Grabbing some empty water jugs, leftover carrots, a jar of jam, and some crackers, I quickly pack the contents into my bag. We may as well make it a picnic. I pass Tara on the way out and fill her in on the plans I have made with Beth. It's not safe to leave the group without informing someone as to your whereabouts, should anything happen.

"I'll let the others know. When will you guys be back?"

"After lunch sometime."

"Ok, See ya."

I swing open the door to find Beth standing on the other side of it. "You seem happy today. I take it you and Glen had a good night."

"Something like that, nosey. Can't a girl just want to hang with her little sis."

Beth side-eyes me, making it clear she is a bit sceptical. No matter, truth be told I kind of deserve it. I haven't always been there for her. When we were growing up I was so consumed in my own life and she was just so young. Seven years is a big bridge to gap when you're a teenager. I should have been more like Shaun. He always made time for her.

Instead of waiting for Beth to respond, I simply hand her one of the water jugs and smile. "May as well collect some water for the group while we're at it."

"Good idea. Just better make sure Eugene has his test tubes ready. I wouldn't want to give the group eccolii or anything." Her smile grows wide and as soon as the words leave her mouth Beth breaks out laughing, as do I. In fact I don't think I can remember the last time I have laughed so hard. Looking at Beth's face in this moment does not help to stop the giggles either. She has tears in her eyes and is hunched over, laughing at the joke she herself has made. That's when it happens. I had a feeling it might. Beth lets out a loud "snort," and suddenly looks mortified. The laughter stops in an instant. Her giant doe eyes expand to the size of saucers. Her hands fly up to cover the bottom half of her face and she looks around quickly to see if anyone was within earshot.

Carl had just rounded the corner of the brick wall when it happened and is now standing behind her. His grin is so wide that it takes up his entire face. "Did you just snort? Wait until I tell everyone that if you get laughing hard enough we can make ya snort."

Beth's face turns an entirely new shade of red ( even for her) as panic and dread wash over her features. She pulls Carl over to the side and leans in close to his ear. I can just barely make out the conversation that they have in hushed tones. "Carl, I have four Big Kat chocolate bars that can be yours if you promise never to mention this to anybody...ever...again."

I bring my hand up to my brow, trying to block the sun so I can see better. Carl shrugs his shoulders a little and tilts his head just enough to cast a shadow over his face. All I can see is the silhouette of his hat. "Ok, but I want them today."

Beth narrows her eyes ever so slightly as she attempts to stare him down. Daryl must have taught her that. "Fine. Their in the cookie jar. It's wedged behind the woven baskets under the sink in the kitchen." She extends her hand to Rick's boy. "Deal?"

He reaches back with his. "Deal."

I don't think Daryl would have caved in so quickly though.

Carl walks toward the house and Beth makes her way back over to where I am standing with a quirk of my brow. "Bribery now? Wow! For you that's like taking blood money from the mob."

"Stop."

I chuckle a little at her annoyed expression. "Come on, let's go see that pond."

I loop my arm through hers and we head out through the open field and away from the realities of our lives here. As we begin the small hike to the Georgia tree line I bask in the suns warm rays as I take in this exquisite day. Not a walker to be had. Beth does the same. Arm and arm we walk through the tall grass. Beth tilts her head toward my shoulder and then bumps me with her hip to get my attention. I hip bump her back. "What was that for?"

She smiles, then shrugs. "I was just thinking how the two of us walking like this reminds me of the Dashwood sisters from Sense and Sensibility. Walking arm and arm through the English countryside."

"Your right. It does, but if we're going to be anyone, let's be Jane and Elizabeth Bennett from Pride and Prejudice. I'll even let you be Elizabeth."

"I'd rather be Marianne."

"Seriously! Still?" I crinkle my nose up. "She wasn't even the main character Beth." I shake my head and roll my eyes before letting a huff escape my lips. "I cannot believe that you still, even after all this time, prefer Colonel Brandon to Darcy. Darcy is only one of the sexiest, handsome..."

"arrogant, pretentious, self-riotous..."

"...Romantic literary figures. Colonel Brandon is just so... so, old!"

"He was thirty-five!"

"Like I said, old. What was Marianne Dashwood anyway, like sixteen? How can you possibly find that attractive?"

"That's shallow Maggie, even for you. We're talking about a damn romance novel here. My preference has nothing to do with age. Colonel Brandon loves Marianne, flighty flaws and all. He wants to protect her. Even when she falls for that stupid Willoughby character. The Colonel knows he's not good enough for her and yet Brandon's love for her never falters. He steps back and patiently loves her from a far until she comes to her senses." Beth starts to play with her blonde curls. She gently strokes the strands over one shoulder as we continue toward the treeline. Her eyes go all day dreamy like. Still the same ol' Beth. "Besides... the awkwardness he displays is simply adorable."

"I'll never understand you Dewdrop." Beth stops instantly and puts her hands on her hips. She looks pissed. "Sorry, I forgot."

A smile plays at her lips. "Forgiven."

As we enter the forest the two of us stop our conversation and focus our attentions on the surroundings. Keeping alert is what keeps you alive now. Surprisingly enough we only encounter one walker on the entire trip to the water hole (rare to be sure). The sorry creature is stuck under a tree limb that has fallen down. The bark is singed at the breaking point where lightning must have struck. Without a word, Beth pulls the knife from her belt and plunges it deep into the walkers brain. She places her foot against the dead mans jaw directly under his chin and yanks the weapon free before softly treading back over to my side.

When we reach the clearing Beth and I both climb onto a boulder that juts out a ways back from the spring fed pond and we take in the simple beauty of it. The pond itself is not so large that you couldn't make your way around it in about ten minutes, however I am not blind to its scenic beauty. Bull rushes line the perimeter on the far side with lily pads floating around the edges. The still water ripples as a dragon-fly skims the surface and a gentle croak of a bull frog is heard in the distance. The gentle hum of a humming bird's wings add to the melody. We both let out a deep sigh.

I look over to my sister, glad that we are sharing this together. Beth smiles back and then without prompting, begins to speak. "Remember going up to uncle Gordon's cottage near the finger lakes. He had a pond similar to this."

"Ya, I do. I remember the day you stopped swimming in it too. How old were you? Like six."

"I was seven."

I nod my head and smile. "That's right, you were. Shaun started a seaweed fight with that boy who lived down the road. I forget his name."

"Me too. He was weird though. Use to catch grasshoppers only to pull off their legs. Who does that?"

I avert my eyes and confess. "I did that."

Beth scrunched up her face, "gross!"

"Set ants on fire with a magnifying glass too."

"Yuck, that's disgusting."

"Anyway, I will never forget your expression as that giant glob of algae and mud landed on your face."

"To this day I have to force myself to move through it. I hate the squishy feeling of it under my feet. It sends shivers up my spine just thinking about it."

"Remember when Shaun put that garter snake in you bed as payback for eating the last of the peanut butter."

"No, but I certainly remember mamma screaming through the farmhouse after she went upstairs to put new sheets on my bed."

We both start to laugh and then without warning our laughter turns to tears.

That lump forms in the back of my throat once more when I think of Shaun. I glance up at Beth to find a thin line of tears streaking down her cheek. My own sorrow is reflected back at me through her expressive blue eyes. Quickly she wipes them away with the back of her hand. I wrap my arm around her as the two of us continue to sit and peer out onto the peaceful scene before us. There are no need for words. Beth and I both share the same pain when it comes to our beautiful brother.

Shaun was the glue that binded Beth and I together. He was the jelly in our jelly sandwich. His kind spirit and easy nature allowed for him to get away with so much. Shaun could talk his way out of anything, but it often didn't stop at that. He may have been younger than me by a couple of years, however he was always quick to defend my honor, and have my back. He willingly took the fall for me more than once growing up, knowing full well that Daddy was more than likely going to let him off with a stern lecture.

To Beth, Shaun was gentle and sweet. They spent real time together. When we were kids he would sneak into her room after lights out, flashlight in hand and read her stories. Other times he would simply make them up, just for her. The two of them bonded over their equally creative nature and as Shaun and I became teenagers, Shaun was still willing to play make-believe games like pirates and princess with her. Sometimes he would even make himself the princess just to switch it up a bit. Making Beth smile was one of his greatest joys. So ya, they were close.

Beth and I, not so much. Sure we care about each other, love each other even. We've just always been so different. I would spend my time at the mall. She would spend hers reading an obsessive amount of novels. I would spend time making out with boys while she spent hers writing for days in one of her many journals that were hidden all over the farmhouse. I love full contact sports and getting my hands dirty, whereas Beth (up until recently that is) has shown no co-ordination skills what-so-ever. In simple terms... Beth is a clutz. The only person I ever knew who can fall up stairs.

We stare out at the pond for a long, long while.

I internally debate whether or not to ask this question that has been on my mind of late. I know it is not really any of my business. I should probably refrain from it. Then again, "Can I ask you a question Beth."

She narrows her eyes at me ever so slightly before lowering her head down at the rock we are sitting on. She shakes her head once, sadness still existing in within her gaze. "I told you before that I am simply not ready, nor willing to discuss what happened when I was taken. It's to painful and I just want to move past it Maggie."

I smile one of my biggest smiles at her now. "That wasn't what I was going to ask."

"Really?" Curiosity creeps onto her expression Now. "What?"

"Is there something going on between you and the redneck?"

"Maggie!" Her face turns multiple shades of pink, red, white as a ghost and then back to pink. The level of Beth's embarrassment speaks volumes. "There is, isn't there."

"I'm not talking about this either!"

I Place a hand on Beth's knee trying to persuade her to open up. "Come on, we're sisters! This is the sort of thing we should be talking about. The two of you were alone together for quite a while right. It would only be natural if feelings started to develope. I see the way he looks at you now. You're always in his line of sight. The way he works so hard to toughen you up." Beth sends a questioning look my way before darting her eyes elsewhere. "The combat training."

"Oh."

I sigh. "Look, I know that I can sometimes be a little judgemental. I have only ever wanted the best for you though. If you ever do want to talk about it, know that I will always be on your side. If he's what you want, then I say go for it! Life's to short to live it with regrets."

l peel back the zipper of my pack and start to pull the contents of food from the bag, allowing for the subject to drop. Beth reaches for the jar and starts to spread some jam on a cracker, handing it to me as she continues to repeat the process a second time. The wind picks up and blows her curls into the cracker. The jam adds a purple streak to the front of her blonde hair. "Gross, I'll be right back." She jumps of the boulder and heads to the edge of the pond. Beth lowers her body to the ground using her knees to support her weight. She fills one of the gallon jugs with water and then pours some of the liquid over the sticky substance in her hair as she attempts to remove the clump of jam before it causes her yellow mop to tangle.

I leap from the rock and head down the water's edge toward my sister, bringing the other jug with me. The temperature has dropped a degree or two since this morning. Beth peers up to the sky, concern etched on her face. She licks one finger and points it in the air. "Storm's coming, we should get back." I tilt my head up to the sky and nod agreement. Grey clouds have blocked out the sun. They seem to be moving quickly across the horizon as a suddenly cool current causes me to shiver. "Might just blow over."

My sister stands so still right then, not even acknowledging my last statement for a moment or two. She then shakes her head before replying with confidence. "No, It's coming right at us...and it's going to be bad. Grab that water jug and the pack. We need to reach the others before..."

As if on cue a clap of thunder echos above our heads followed by a sudden flash of light on the opposite side of the small pond. It targets a tree, sending it crashing to the earth. Small ripples in the water make way for sharper points to form as the rain hits the pond with force causing the hard drops to bounce back up. I do as my sister says and we quickly make our way out of the clearing and into the dense forest.

The storm seems to have come out of nowhere and both of us fear just what that means. The crashing tree has already alerted the dead to the area. Loud groans can be heard in the foliage making me extremely nervous. I can barely see through the rain, but I keep running followed by Beth.

"Maggie, look out!"

I turn around to see a gallon jug swing before my eyes and connect with a thud, knocking a mangled walker to the ground. Pissed off that I had allowed it so close, I finish the job using the heel of my hiking boot. "Thanks."

We continue through the line of trees as quickly and silently as we can, however the constant thunder rumbling through the sky and the uneven ground at our feet make the task nearly impossible. The two of us are linked together, neither her or I willing to let go of the firm grasp of our locked hands. We enter out into the field. The church is standing off about half a mile. I can only just make out the bell tower through the blanket of rain.

Beth turns my attention to the surrounding woods around the property. "Look," she says with terror in her voice. About a hundred or so walkers are now edging out from the tree line. The two of us stare at each other. There is nothing we can do about it. No way to fight them off by ourselves. We only have one option left. Beth takes out her gun and I do the same. Then we run!

**I tend to agree with Maggie on this one. Darcy is sizzling hot, and would definitely be my pick! As for the rest of it...I hope I have done a good job depicting their unique bond. I am an only child myself, but I always wanted a sister.**

**Please review and let me know how I did:)**


	9. All that remains

**INTERACTIVE CHAPTER: Please follow Instructions below for most powerful feels.**

**Step 1. Before reading this chapter go Youtube Feels like home. Then click on Chantal Kreviazuk's version of Randy Newman's song. Listen to the entire song and then proceed to step two. Go on now...I won't go anywhere.**

**Step 2. Find a quiet space where you can be alone. Get those minds out of the gutters. I simply don't want anyone to be self-conscious. Remember the melody of this song. It is as important as the lyrics themselves.**

**Step 3. When you get to the song part I want you to sing it out loud right along with Beth, then drop out of the song and read my words. Continue the pattern until the end. It will create the desired effect.**

**Disclaimer: The quote at the beginning of this chapter is not my own. I found it and pinned it to my Bethyl pinterest page. If anyone knows the author please PM me so I can give proper credit. It describes my own feelings perfectly.**

**A/N: To everyone reading this story, everyone reviewing this story, and anyone who, like myself just loves the idea of Beth and Daryl together forever... I dedicate this chapter to you. Enjoy! **

"I wouldn't pay a nickle to have it paved in gold.

Everything I love, is at the end of a dirt road."

author Unknown

Glen Pov

We pull around the bend in the road and I can immediately see that things are drastically wrong. A bonfire is blazing at the far end of the church opposite the rectory on the outer stone wall. The stench of burning flesh is present and it flows straight up my nose, even at this distance. As we slowly make our approach down the dirt road that leads onto the church property I can barely make out Rick's form as he comes around the corner of the building dragging two dead walkers behind him. Abraham and Rosita are following closely behind, dragging four more toward the flames. My heart sinks and I instantly tense up, fearing for the worst. Daryl has his face pressed to the glass and I wonder if he is feeling the same. Then I see her. The most integral person to my existence.

Maggie walks around the corner mere seconds after the others. She too, is dragging a body. Her pace slows as she nears the veranda where Beth is standing , Tara at her side. All three girls are covered in dirt and blood. Beth's golden locks are dishevelled and appear brown while her clothing is blood spattered and torn. The hem of Maggie's once orange tank top is torn away leaving a jagged and frayed edge that sits just above her naval. Tara's eyes are sunken. She looks as though she has not slept in days and is ready to collapse from exhaustion. Her usual straight posture is hunched, causing a visible curve to her spin, and the arm that holds the rifle is hanging limply at her side.

As we get closer I notice that Beth is simply gazing out into the field, with a rifle grasped firmly in her arms. She has been put on watch duty. I am sure of it. Beth reaches for Maggie's arm when we she see the lights of the car and her words ring out to the others, "Their back! Their back!" Daryl rolls the window down and I hear the raspy tone and the crack in her voice. "Thank God their back!" A river of tears streak down her face and I can now see the expressions of Maggie and Tara. The lines of worry are slow to dissipate as our vehicle makes its way toward them. I turn to look at Daryl, "What the hell happened here?"

The rest of the group begins to filter their way over to the main gates of the sanctuary. Daryl begins to rattle off names as he makes a quick check to see if anyone's missing.

All of us carry around a certain level of somber reverence these days. It's hard not to when the dead walk the earth. These people though... our family, they look like they are walking back from war. Each one of them carries the same hollow look in their eyes as Tara. The dirt and grim that is soaked into their flesh is a testament to the battle they fought. Most of the group has soot and ash smeared across them aswell. It makes the individuals even harder to distinguish between. Daryl points in the direction of the rectory. "Look at that." Along the outer wall I see a pile of bodies that are stacked like firewood waiting to be burned.

"Stop the car!" It's a command he makes, not a request. The second the vehicle is in park Daryl is out the door, crossbow in hand, and heading in the direction of Rick. I too get out and head in the only direction my heart will lead. Running towards Maggie the instant my feet hit ground, I barely make any progress at all before her body is hurtling itself into mine. I give her a kiss and then start to peel her limbs off so I can study her expression. Instinctively my palm cups her smiling cheek and my fingers begin to draw small circles along her jaw-line as I pull her lips to mine once more. I release her quickly and start my search of her frame, checking for bites, scratches, injuries of any kind.

She stills my searching hand with hers. "I'm ok. Everyone is ok." Tears are overflowing from her eyes. Those eyes that haunt my every waking thought. "What happened here?" I ask in a hushed voice.

"Storm came up. Brought with it a herd. We're burning the bodies now. Luckily everyone made it, even Eugene. " Maggie breaks eye contact and her expression softens as she turns her head in the direction of the church. Beth has been joined by Rick and Daryl on the veranda and seems to be listening in on the conversation between the two men.

Maggie has a smile on her face like none I have seen before. "You should have seen her Glen. She was amazing. I can not believe the difference in her." The tears well up in her eyes once more, but it's pride that shines through them now.

"Did the two of you talk."

Again she smiles and again it is simply breathtaking. Even with the level of dirt that coats her tear streaked face, her beauty is unmistakable. "We did...and I have decided that I don't need to know everything that is goes on in her life. I really just need to be a part of it."

"Does that mean I can finally stop giving Daryl the third degree cause it's starting to effect how the two of us operate."

Maggie chuckles for a brief moment and then in a low voice she replies, "It does. It definitely does." After a beat or two she continues, however the humble manner of her tone changes. Her smile suddenly fades from her face and her eyes go cold, "but if he hurts her in any way, shape, or form...I'll kill him!" I laugh out loud and nod my support. I know my wife well and I can honestly say I believe she would.

We begin to walk hand in hand back towards our family. I can just make out their silhouette as the sun begins to sink from the sky, casting the group in a mix of light and shadow. It fills me with warmth knowing that we are all together. What started as a group of strangers staying together out of mutual need has become a solid family unit that is based on acceptance, love, and understanding.

The rosy pink blush of the sky blended with the hazy smoke from the fire adds a breathtaking backdrop as I Beare witness to a beautiful sight. It is quite frankly, one I had not considered becoming a reality. Beth's head is resting on Daryl's shoulder, while her fingers are firmly laced in his. They walk away from the rest of the group and disappear behind the stone wall of the church. It brings a smile to my face and hope to my heart.

**BETHDARYLBETHDARYLBETHDARYLBETHDARYLBETHDARYLBETHDARYLBETHDARYLBETH**

It took a while, but the bodies have all been burned. We should be exhausted from the effort, or at the very least the late hour of night, but instead the group begins to congregate around a small campfire Michonne and Carl have started. I pull up a log to sit next to my wife. She smiles up at me, her eyes dancing in the flickering light of the fire, then gives me a small tap on the shoulder to motion for me to look up. Daryl has just now rounded the corner of the wall and is headed in our direction. Maggie gives him a nod as he approaches. Without saying a word, the hunter promptly changes course, choosing to prop himself against the outer wall, maintaining distance between himself and the rest of the group. This is nothing new and so Maggie tries again, this time more out of amusement than anything. "Glad your back." His eyes refuse to meet hers. He lets out a quiet grunt and shrugs his shoulders, nothing more. Maggie shakes her head and quietly chuckles to herself.

Moments later Beth emerges around the same section of building Daryl had. On her hip, displayed for all to see is a black leather sheath, that houses a very familiar Gerber locking knife (minus the blood). I turn back to Daryl with raised brow as Beth settles in beside Maggie.

Stories are shared as we are filled in on the days events. Michonne stands with her katana raised and gives a play by-play of her part in the herd battle, all the while being encouraged on by Carl who is sitting by her side chewing on a Big Kat bar. Rick sits back against the wall next to Daryl and just listens to the conversations with a quiet resolve. His face is somewhat sad and I wonder if he is thinking of his little girl lost. I push the thought from my mind as quickly as it tries to set up shop. This is a happy time.

Tomorrow we will speak with Rick and Abraham about what happened on the run, but for tonight I will just enjoy being home.

I am pulled from my thoughts by Carl's voice. "Beth, sing us a song. A happy one."

All eyes focus on the tiny blonde and she smiles back sweetly. "Any requests?"

Abraham interrupts, "Darlin', if you can bring music to my ears I will listen to whatever you want to sing." Rosita curls up close to him as we all await a song.

Beth clears her throat, tucks a strand of yellow hair behind her ear and begins to sing.

"There's something in your eyes, makes me want to lose myself,

makes to lose myself, in your arms."

The melodic sound of Beth's voice causes a silence to fall on the group. Her only musical accompaniment is the crackling fire and the cicadas that are playing backup in the field outside the wall.

"There's something in your voice, makes my heart beat fast,

hope this feeling lasts, the rest of my life."

Maggie nestles in close to my side. I feel the heat radiate off of her body as she places her head on my shoulder. Sasha and Bob are canoodling opposite us. Rick stands up and begins to make his way over to Carl. He pats him on the shoulder and sits by his side. Michonne smiles at the two, like they are the most important people in her world.

"If you knew how lonely, my life has been,

and how long I've been, so alone."

Behind the crackling flame I see Daryl shift the position of his body against the wall. He sits a little taller and it is like he is willing his eyes to look up.

"And if you knew how I wanted someone to come along,

and change my life the way you've done."

There is no hiding the flush in her cheeks as she sings. There is no hiding the brief look that she sends out to him now as though daring a response.

"It feels like home to me,

It feels like home to me,

It feels like I'm all the way back, where I come from."

Maggie releases me from our embrace only to turn to her sister and slide her arm around Beth's shoulder. The girls sway back and forth on the log and Maggie joins the song. Beth's willowy voice mixed with Maggie's harmony creates magic. I escape into another world, a better world. Looking around I don't think I am alone in my thoughts.

"It feels like home to me,"

My wife's voice adds confidence to the song,

"It feels like home to me,"

and the music gains strength.

"It feels like I'm all the way back, where I belong."

It has power.

"A window breaks, down a long dark street,

and a siren wails, in the night."

Maggie's voice suddenly drops off, but she holds Beth up, by simply holding her hand. Why does Beth appear so nervous? Beth never gets nervous. Not about singing.

"But I'm alright, cause I have you here with me,

and I can almost see, through the dark there is light."

Electricity crackles through the air as fire flies begin to light up the night. I see a smile form on Beth's face and realize it is not that of a teenage girl...Not anymore. Just like her sister, Beth's smile is brilliant, and it is focused entirely on Daryl Dixon.

"If you knew how much this moment means to me,"

His steel-blue eyes meet her sky-blue orbs.

"and how long, I've waited for your touch."

The hunter's intense gaze focuses on the tiny blonde as if in doing so he can see every particle of her being.

"And if you knew how happy, you are making me,"

Silence fills the air, but for the crackling fire. I can see Beth's eyes start to glisten, and I can hear her deep intake of breath.

"I never thought..."

Beth's eyes flutter shut only to open once more. Her voice is shaking and her breathing becomes quick, causing her chest to rise and fall several times. Daryl's eyes are dark and he never takes them off of her. Not for a moment. Not even for a second. He pushes his constant vail of dark hair away from his face, only to have it fall back once more. Light from the fire flickers, casting enough illumination on his shape for me to fully grasp the intensity of his stare. Daryl's gaze burrows into her blue depths, seeking... almost pleading. It is as if within her eyes lies the secret to saving his soul.

"...I could love anyone so much."

I don't think even the cicadas are singing now.

"It feels like home to me,

It feels like home to me,

It feels like I'm all the way back, where I come from."

Beth stands up from her spot on the log and walks around the fire. She passes by our family and the flames as she continues to make her way to the shadowed nook that Daryl has claimed as his own.

"It feels like home to me,"

She lowers her body down so that her back leans into his angel winged vest.

"It feels like home to me,"

He doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms around hers.

"It feels like I'm all the way back, where I belong."

Daryl leans his head down and brings his mouth to her ear. His whispered words cause a single tear to roll down her face, yet the blinding light that resides in her eyes and the smile that plays on her lips, leads me to believe she is anything but sad.

- The End

**Did you like it?**

**I had to fan myself down a bit after I wrote it. LOL. Honestly, the entire campfire scene has been bouncing around my head with Beth singing this particular song since ALONE first aired. Those eyes of his, DAMN! **


	10. Special thanks

**Special Thanks**

**Just a little thank you to all of you who have taken time out of your**

**lives to come and play make believe in mine.**

**To all of you who took time to review, I apprieciate them all. I want to make this story as **

**good as possible. I welcome any and all feedback, criticisms and kind words a like. It can only help.**

**Maykits, many thanks for always brightening up my day with your reviews. You have **

**made me laugh. LOL**

**To Darkangel199113 and Brady66, I have especially enjoyed all of our little chats and rants on PM. **

**Thank you for your support, and or advice:) I love you guys!**

**Just a quick reminder since my note page is now gone, that the next story in this series will begin posting Jan. 1'St. 2015.**

**I promise...we will find out what happened behind that wall. I will not scrap that chapter.**

**HAVE A SAFE AND HAPPY HOLIDAY **

**AND **

**I WILL SEE YOU ALL NEXT YEAR:) lol**

**-TWD withdrawl**


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